Equilibrium
by Tori of Lorien
Summary: AU. "Never take anything for granted. For everything can be taken away in a heartbeat." When a brutal attack causes Phil Brooks to lose his memory, he struggles to not only piece his life back together and regain what was lost, but also to discover who still wants him dead.
1. Chapter 1

**Equilibrium**

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing associated with the WWE. Just any OCs!

**Summary**: AU. "Never take anything for granted. For everything can be taken away in a heartbeat." When a brutal attack causes Phil Brooks to lose his memory, he struggles to not only piece his life back together and regain what was lost, but also to discover who still wants him dead.

**Characters**: CM Punk, William Regal, Colt Cabana, Dolph Ziggler, Cody Rhodes, Zack Ryder, Layla, and Kelly Kelly

**Pairings**: Cody Rhodes/Layla, Dolph Ziggler/OC, Daniel Bryan/AJ Lee, past CM Punk/Eve Torres

**Rating**: T

**Genre**: Suspense/Drama

**Song**: "In the Middle of It Now," Disciple

**Author's Note **(_important!_): So, it's been a long time, but I'm back with another story, haha! I was watching the show "Southland" when this idea hit me, so I just ran with it. This is my first alternate universe story, so none of the people in it are wrestlers. The people mentioned above are only the main characters, but plenty more make appearances as well. Mostly real names are used, but there are some ring names as well. Also, this is a **higher rated T** story, mainly for violence. However, it's nothing too graphic, and there will be a warning in the chapters where that is more prevalent. This will also be fun in the sense that there will be plenty of clues throughout the story so you can try to piece together what happened and figure out who is responsible and why before the characters themselves do. Some will be a bit bigger than others, but they are all there for you to find. If some are missed, never fear since all will be revealed at the end. This story is nearly completed on my end, so it will be updated weekly. Feel free to read and review, just no flames please! Enjoy and happy hunting! :)

_Chapter 1_

Darkness greeted him when he opened his eyes. The night air was mild, but there wasn't a single star in the dark sky above him. The ground was hard beneath him no matter which way he turned, and something sharp was digging into his lower back.

With a quiet groan, the dark-haired man slowly began to sit up, pausing with a hiss when pain shot through his ribs. He collapsed back to the ground, hand tight over his side as he waited for the intense throbbing to subside. From where he was stretched out on the cold sidewalk, gasping quietly for breath, he quickly assessed himself for any other injuries on his protesting body. He felt as though his right knee had been tweaked, a couple fingers on his left hand wouldn't move, he could still distinguish the lingering metallic taste of blood in his mouth, nearly his entire torso was burning, there was a deep, pulsating pain in his right side, and his head was pounding mercilessly.

But no matter how much he strained his memory, he could not recall what had happened to cause him so much pain or how he had ended up lying on an abandoned sidewalk in the middle of the night. In fact, he couldn't remember where he was at all.

Opening his eyes once more, the dark-haired man tried to sit up again, being a bit more cautious this time. He managed to make it up into a sitting position as he tossed away the green piece of a broken beer bottle he had been lying on before leaning back against the hard brick wall behind him, sighing heavily as he quickly looked himself over. The couple fingers he couldn't move on his left hand were sticking out at strange angles and were clearly broken, and his white t-shirt and jeans were both torn in a couple places and stained with blood that must have been his own. He then glanced at the quiet street around him, his eyes scanning over a couple parked cars a few feet away from him and up to the tall buildings that towered over him. He felt a slight surge of anxiety when he didn't recognize anything.

He had no clue where he was.

The man rested his head back against the building behind him and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to will himself to remain calm. Maybe it was just a place that he wasn't familiar with. But that possibility quickly drained away to dread when he realized he couldn't remember where he had been before whatever had caused him to wind up at that spot had happened.

A few moments passed before the man slowly opened his eyes when he felt something light pressing against his leg, and he slowly reached into his pocket with the hand that wasn't broken and pulled out what appeared to be a wallet. The man quickly glanced up when he heard quiet laughter, watching as a couple young blonde women staggered slightly and nearly fell as they stepped out of a brightly-lit bar at the other end of the sidewalk, standing close together under the light of a streetlamp as one pulled a lighter and a pack of Marlboros out of her oversized pink purse. For a moment, he considered calling out to them for help, but something told him that his dry throat wouldn't allow his voice to carry quite that far, and he figured that they wouldn't be much help anyway as one laughed and called her friend a "stupid bitch" when she nearly lost her balance again.

Instead, he turned his attention to the plain black wallet in his hands and slowly opened it. On the left pocket was a shiny golden badge with "Chicago Police" engraved into it in black lettering. A police officer? He wondered if he had accidentally picked up someone else's wallet. This surely couldn't have been his. In the right pocket was a photo ID, and he looked closely at the man with short, slicked-back dark hair and slight scruff lining his serious face staring back at him with intense hazel eyes. The man glanced into the dark window of the closed shop he was leaning against, seeing that despite how his short black hair was hanging loosely around his face, the features from the ID were also spotted in the window's reflection, appearing confused and sporting a couple dark bruises.

So it was his wallet...

The man shook his throbbing head slightly before turning his attention back to the ID card, bringing it closer to try to read it in the minimal lighting. The man it belonged to was thirty-three years old, stood a little over six feet tall, weighed two hundred and eighteen pounds, resided in Chicago, Illinois, and had the name Phillip Brooks.

_Brooks_...

The dark-haired man slowly raised his gaze, his eyes narrowing as he once again looked up and down the dark street around him, the sound of passing cars heard faintly on another street a distance away. But no matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he racked his brain, he could not remember that name.

* * *

_One week earlier..._

Phillip Brooks opened his eyes with a start when he heard a loud knock at his door. He quickly rubbed them with tattooed fingers, sighing as he blindly reached out for the Pepsi bottle he always kept close to him on his desk. "Come in," he said, opening his eyes before narrowing them slightly with frustration as he finally grabbed the allusive bottle that had just been out of his reach.

The door of the office he shared with another officer opened, and Phillip smirked slightly when he saw the grinning man who entered. "I just wanted to tell ya that I've _finally_ made it, man!" his dark-haired best friend, Scott Colton, exclaimed. "I'm no longer a rookie, Phil! I'm a full-fledged officer!"

"That's great, man," Phil replied, taking a sip of his Pepsi as he leaned back in his chair. "I'm glad to hear that." Besides having known him since they were both children, the slightly younger man had been assigned as his rookie when he had graduated from the Chicago Police Academy, and Phil was glad to see the couple years he had devoted to teach him all he knew had paid off.

Scott's broad smile lingered, and he quickly embraced his former mentor when he stood up. "This is what I've always wanted to do, man, you know that," he continued, shaking his head slightly as a quiet laugh escaped from him. "Especially after you made it. I can't really wrap my mind around it." He paused for a moment as he sighed. "I'm gonna miss you bossing me around, though. Driving down the street blaring heavy rock music, picking up coffee and doughnuts..."

Phil chuckled himself as he set his Pepsi back down on the desk and began to collect all the papers that were spread out over it. He had given up on drinking coffee a couple years before when Scott had been assigned to him, and he only had a doughnut on a rare occasion.

"So when do you start out on your own?" Phil asked, straightening out the pile of paperwork in his hands. "Have you gotten a partner yet?"

Scott shook his head. "No, not yet," he answered. "Though Chief said that I should get one soon. Once he finds a good one for me, that is. Too bad it's not gonna be you, though. You know how awesome that would be, man?"

Phil nodded in silent agreement. He would have loved to have Scott as his partner now that he wasn't a rookie, but like the other man, he knew that wasn't going to happen. Because of his experience in the field and the respect he had among his fellow officers, Phil was one who was often assigned incoming rookies to prepare them for the difficult job that lay ahead of them. And with a wave of new men and women coming in fresh from the Academy in two short days, he had already been alerted that he would be taking a new one under his wing.

"I'm just hoping that my new rookie, whoever he or she may be, isn't nearly as annoying as you were," he muttered, another smirk appearing on his face.

"Hey." Scott playfully shoved Phil's arm. "I wasn't _that_ annoying." He rolled his eyes when his best friend raised a challenging eyebrow at him, chuckling quietly. But then, his gaze darkened slightly with concern when he noticed the exhaustion in Phil's hazel eyes as he finished gathering up all the paperwork. "You all right, man?"

Phil glanced up. "Yeah, of course," he said. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Scott shrugged slightly. "Maybe because you haven't been sleeping again?" he suggested.

"I don't sleep, you know that," Phil muttered, setting the neat pile of papers back on his desk. "Besides, I need to focus on this case." He gestured to the pile. "There's a little girl somewhere out there who's been taken away from her family, Scott. I don't want to even consider what would happen if we don't find her."

That was the thing about his best friend, Scott knew. For the years he had known him, Phil had been an insomniac, never spending his nights sleeping and only catching a quick nap every couple of days to keep him going. He was a determined and very driven person, one who would not stop whatever he was doing until he was finished, especially if he was on a case.

"Yeah, but you don't want to overwork yourself, Phil," Scott replied, knowing the other man had come close to doing so a couple times before. "This case is important, I get that. That's why Chief's got us all on it. It's not like you're doing it by yourself."

Phil looked back at the other man for a moment before sighing and picking up his nearly empty Pepsi bottle, though he didn't take a sip. Scott watched him for a moment before his gaze landed on a framed picture his best friend always kept on his desk.

"It's not your fault, you know."

For a brief second, Phil didn't know what Scott meant. But then, his gaze faltered when it landed on the picture the other man was looking at. It had been taken almost six years before when he had first become a part of the Chicago police force along with his former mentor, Chris Irvine. The smiling blond-haired man was one who he had respected completely, and it was a friendship he had treasured but felt as though had been cut much too short.

"I was reckless," Phil murmured, mainly to himself. "If I hadn't been..."

Scott's eyes saddened as he looked at the other man. "You did what you thought you had to," he countered. "You did what was right. You didn't know it was going to turn into an armed robbery."

"Well I should have," Phil snapped, a bit angrier than he meant to. "I should have thought of that possibility. If I wouldn't have gone in before he told me to, Chris wouldn't have..."

The slightly younger man reached out and grabbed Phil's arm securely. His former mentor had never spoken much about Chris while he was learning under him, but what he did know was he had never stopped blaming himself for the man's death. "It would have been you who was killed if Chris hadn't run in to help you," he said quietly but sternly. "And I never worked with him myself, but he had my respect, man. I met him on a couple occasions, one being when he got my little sister's kite out of a tree when he was off duty. I know you feel guilty about what happened, but he was doing his job. It's a dangerous occupation, man, especially on big city streets. But it's a risk we all know we have to take, and it's one that we willingly take. Chris was no exception. Unfortunately, the worst that could happen on this job happened to him."

Phil lowered his gaze slightly, clearly remembering the gun the hooded men had pulled on him that night after he had shown his badge when he had entered the house where a robbery had been reported. Their dispatcher had said the woman inside had not mentioned anything about a weapon, but he still should have realized that it was always a possibility. He had started to pull his own gun out, but he had known that it wouldn't have done any good. Chris had run inside and was beside him with his own weapon drawn just as the robber's gun went off, but Phil hadn't realized it until it had been too late. He had been frozen, his former mentor lying at his feet, while the two men had fled the scene.

How could he have been so rash? Phil knew his rookie ignorance had cost Chris his life, no matter what anyone else said. He had accompanied the Chief to the late officer's house after he had learned his mentor had passed away in the hospital to present his badge and uniform to his family, and no one other than them had seen the pure pain and grief in Chris' wife as she sobbed, held tightly in the Chief's arms as he offered futile comfort. No one else had seen the terrified look on the faces of his young children, who somehow seemed to understand that the man they called "Daddy" wouldn't be coming home. It was an image that haunted him, and Phil knew that his reckless action had not only cost him his mentor, a devoted officer who had been well on his way to becoming the next Chief of Police when the current one stepped down, but a wife had also lost a husband and three children had lost their father. The only slight consolation he had was being able to tell Chris' wife that he had arrested the men who had killed him when they had attempted to rob a convenience store about a week later, a feat he had accomplished since he hadn't taken the time off that the Chief had offered him after the incident, for which he received a heart-felt embrace from her and a blessing he still didn't feel he deserved.

"I just want to find this girl," Phil finally muttered, giving the other man a small smile before he unscrewed the cap of his Pepsi and quickly finished the contents.

Scott sighed as he released his arm as the other man tossed the now empty bottle into the recycling bin near the door, wishing his best friend would open up about the ordeal just once. It couldn't have been healthy to keep it all to himself.

Before he could say anything more, however, the door to the room opened without a warning knock, and their team's brown-haired dispatcher stood in the doorway with wide eyes.

"The man and the girl have been spotted," Layla El said anxiously in her heavy English accent. "By Millennium Park. He's armed."

Phil exchanged a quick glance with Scott before hurrying past her out of the room with his best friend right behind. "How long?" he called over his shoulder, ensuring that both his badge and his gun were secure in their proper places on his belt as Scott did the same.

"The call came in just now," Layla explained as she sped her pace to keep up with the two officers as they made their way toward the station lobby. "The witness recognized the girl, and the man pulled out a gun. Runnels and Nemeth are already on their way since they were out patrolling, but they'll need back-up to ensure that girl gets out of there safely."

Nicholas Nemeth was a good friend of Phil's from their days at the Academy, and after they graduated together, they were assigned as partners when they were each finished with their rookie training. Though when the latter was allocated Scott as a rookie, Nick was given a new partner in Cody Runnels, a man who had graduated a year after they had. He had since moved out of the office he and Phil used to share to be replaced by another newer officer he didn't know very well who seemed to be almost intimidated by him.

"All right. Thanks, Layla." Phil and Scott both ran across the lobby to get out to the former's squad car, and Layla sighed as she sat down in her chair behind the front desk.

"Be careful out there, guys."

* * *

The two men were silent as Phil sped down the street, the only sounds heard being the sirens blaring and Nick and Cody's voices coming in from the radio, keeping them updated on the situation. Scott felt a slight smirk appear on his face at the thought of the joke he always made in situations like this that one of the perks of being a police officer was they could speed without getting in trouble. But seeing the focused and determined look on his best friend's face, he decided to keep it to himself.

Phil pulled up on the street in front of Millennium Park, parking beside a second squad car. He and Scott both took their guns from their belts and made sure they were loaded before climbing out, pushing through the swarm of screaming people who were running in the opposite direction to get away from what they then heard were gunshots. Phil sped up his pace, yelling for people to get out of his way, before he and his best friend finally made it to a fountain where they found two other uniformed officers they recognized to be Nick and Cody. They were both standing across from Brandon Miller, a dark-haired man in a hooded sweatshirt who had a handgun of his own that he shot off from time to time in any given direction. Tightly wrapped in his other arm was the small blonde-haired girl who had gone missing a couple days before.

Scott approached Nick and Cody with Phil, both taking a similar stance as they aimed their weapons at the man they had been tracking for some time. "Let the girl go!" the latter shouted, making sure he had a clear shot if one needed to be taken so she wouldn't be hit.

In response, the man aimed a shot in the four officers' direction, and they quickly ducked behind a couple trees on either side of them to take cover. Phil glanced at the blond-haired Nick, who had hid with him, and then at Scott and the dark-haired Cody across from them. This wasn't the first time this man had taken a child, but last time, he had somehow managed to slip through their fingers. He was determined to do what he had to do to get the girl to safety and bring him into custody this time.

Taking a deep breath, Phil moved out of the cover of the tree, raising his gun again as he aimed it at the other man. "I'm not gonna ask you again, Brandon!" he snapped, ignoring Nick's startled eyes on him. "Put the gun down and let the girl go, and no one will get hurt."

However, Brandon was beyond reason at this point. "The only one who's gonna get hurt is you!"

Phil watched as the other man raised his arm, saw the gun aimed at him, and he felt his stomach tighten painfully. _In the light of the moon coming into the dark house, his heart nearly stopped when the hooded man pulled out a concealed gun and aimed it in his direction_. Phil noticed Scott running toward him with his own gun raised out of the corner of his eye, just when Brandon fired his weapon. _The gunshot seemed to echo around the house as Chris, his gun drawn, fell to the floor..._

No, not this time...

The bullet skimmed his right arm, but Phil hardly noticed as he made sure his gun was level with the other man, his instinct causing him to do the only thing he could.

He fired.

He hadn't meant to, hadn't wanted to, but he fired. Once, twice. Self-defense, he would later call it. The man had fired first, after all, and he had shot to kill. He saw Scott stop running before watching as Brandon dropped his weapon and collapsed to the ground.

The scream from the little girl brought Phil out of his thoughts, and he secured his gun on his belt before he ran toward where Brandon had fallen, Scott, Nick, and Cody right behind him. He immediately knelt down with his best friend, glancing at the man they had been after to make sure he didn't make any sudden movements before he carefully pushed his limp arm aside to reveal seven-year-old Katrina Moore, who was trembling as tears ran down her dirt-smudged face.

"Are you all right, sweetheart?" Phil asked quietly, looking at the blonde girl with concern as Scott pushed Brandon's gun away.

Katrina slowly looked up at him, her breath catching a couple times as she continued to cry. "I wanna go home..." she mumbled, glancing at the unmoving Brandon with fear. "I want Mommy..."

Phil's gaze saddened slightly, not surprised by how scared she was, before giving her a small smile. "I'm Officer Phil Brooks," he told her, pulling his badge off his belt to show her. "I'll bring you home, Katrina."

The young girl looked up at him curiously before reaching out with her small hands and taking the badge from him. She looked it over for a moment before raising her gaze to his. "Is this real?" Katrina asked.

Despite himself, Phil chuckled quietly. "Yes, that's real," he answered, his smile lingering.

"Oh." Katrina handed the badge back, watching as he put it back on his belt before she moved forward and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. Phil was slightly caught off guard by the action, and he sighed quietly as he wound an arm securely around her.

Cody smiled slightly as he watched them before he approached Brandon, crouching down and placing two fingers on the side of his neck. "Dead," he confirmed, glancing at Phil.

"I wouldn't worry about it," Nick quickly added as Phil looked back at them. "We all saw what happened. You fired in self-defense."

Phil nodded once at the two officers. "I'm not worried," he replied. "As you said, self-defense." Whenever he was on a case, he always preferred to take a suspect into custody, never killing unless he had no other option. He wondered for a moment if this could have been resolved in any other way, but thinking about how Brandon had been behaving, he highly doubted it.

"If you wanna get the girl home, Nick and I will stick around for the questioning," Cody suddenly suggested, looking at Katrina with concern of his own. "Chief can talk to you later if he has any further questions."

The slightly older officer gave them both a smile. "Thanks, guys," Phil muttered before turning to the girl who had yet refused to let him go. "Come on, sweetheart. Let's get you home."

Katrina nodded in silent response, tightening her arms around his neck slightly as Phil picked her up as he stood, holding her close as he began to head toward his squad car with Scott. Having caught wind of the dangerous situation, a couple different local news teams were already there to cover the story, and Phil did his best to shield the seven-year-old girl from the frequent camera flashes while his best friend stood close to her as well as they made their way through the crowd as quickly as they could. They ignored the reporters trying to get their comments, and Phil was relieved when he got Katrina in the car away from the media eye. He was silent as he climbed in behind the wheel, waiting for her and Scott to both get settled in before he drove away from the park.

Getting the young girl home was his first priority, and to be able to return her to her parents would definitely give him a crucial reminder about why this job was worth it.

**Author's Note**: And that's it for chapter one! More of an intro than anything, and no real clues to speak of yet. But never fear, they will be there, lol. Thanks for reading! Your reviews are much appreciated. Thank you!


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing associated with the WWE. Just any OCs! I also don't own "Rocket Man." That would be Sir Elton John. I also don't own Starbucks, Kit Kat, or Scrabble.

**Summary**: AU. "Never take anything for granted. For everything can be taken away in a heartbeat. When a brutal attack causes Phil Brooks to lose his memory, he struggles to not only piece his life back together and regain what was lost, but also to discover who still wants him dead.

**Author's Note**: Hey! Thanks for the reviews/follows/favorites! It means a lot! As promised, there will be a new chapter a week, so here's the second one. It'll have a slightly different feel than the first since it'll get us introduced more to our four main officers that this story will primarily be following. There aren't any major clues in this chapter, though there might be some small ones, so keep an eye out! Let's go!

_Chapter 2_

Phil set the weights he had previously been lifting back in their proper places on the shelf, wiping the sweat from his face with the plain white towel he kept around his neck. He rubbed his heavily tattooed arms a couple times before stretching them out with a sigh. The gym in the basement of the police station was one of his favorite places to be. It always felt good to get in an easy workout after a case since it was a good stress reliever. His eyes passed over the bandage that was wrapped around his upper right arm, having taken care of the scratch the bullet had left behind on his own. It wasn't a major injury, but in this line of work, it was always better to be safe than sorry.

He ran a hand through his loose, dark hair before taking a sip from his water bottle and pulling his phone out of his gym bag. His plans to head to the treadmill before hitting the weights again, however, were delayed when he saw he had one missed call. Slightly confused, Phil quickly checked it, and a slight smile appeared on his face when he saw the name "Mom" on the screen. He paused his iPod and pulled out his earphones, draping them over his neck as he selected the call back option and brought the phone to his ear.

_"Hello?"_ the familiar voice of Lynne Brooks asked.

Phil's eyes narrowed slightly, though his smile lingered. "You sound distracted," he replied, sitting cross-legged on the bench next to his bag. "Is now a bad time?"

There was a quiet laugh on the other end, one his own tended to emulate. _"No, Phil, I'm just grading some spelling quizzes," _Lynne replied. _"You know how second graders can be. Always keeping me busy."_

A smirk replaced the smile that had previously resided on Phil's face. "I remember," he muttered. There had been many times over the past few years where his mother would have him come in to talk to her class about matters of safety as well as hint at the importance of not using drugs or drinking alcohol. Phil had always been a firm follower of the Straight Edge lifestyle– no drinking, no smoking, no doing drugs. He never minded when Lynne asked him to pass the message along to her students.

_"Well, they do love when Officer Phil Brooks comes to visit." _Lynne paused for a minute. _"You sound winded. Is now a bad time for _you_, dear?"_

"Nah, it's fine, Mom." Phil dabbed at his face with the end of the towel again. "I just finished my workout after the case. Sorry I missed your call. Everything okay?"

He heard his mother take a short intake of breath. _"Oh, yes, that case," _she said quietly. _"It was on the news earlier. So glad you, Scott, Nick, and Cody are all unharmed. You know how I worry about my boys." _Phil's smirk broadened._ "Also relieved that little girl gets to go home to her parents. I can't imagine what any of them were going through. But I'm proud of you, honey. You did a good thing today."_

Phil nodded in agreement, even though he knew Lynne wouldn't see it. Bringing little Katrina to her home and setting her in the arms of her grateful parents, tears running down their faces, had lifted his heart considerably after memories of presenting the badge and uniform of his former mentor to his grieving wife in a similar fashion had been pervading his mind.

"I have a feeling you didn't call just to talk about the case, though," Phil finally prompted with a quiet chuckle.

Lynne laughed again as well. _"No, Phil, I didn't," _she confirmed. _"I was just just checking to make sure that you still had off tonight. Gotta know how much dinner to prepare."_

Phil absently chewed on his bottom lip ring as he quickly lowered his phone for a second to check the date on the screen. Wednesday. How could he have forgotten? "Of course I'll be there," he told her after he brought it back to his ear. "I'd never miss my weekly nights with the family."

_"Glad to hear it, Phil_," Lynne said, and he could almost hear the smile in her voice. _"It'll be good to see you."_

"Yeah, you too, Mom," Phil replied, rising to his feet and grabbing his bag before hurrying up the stairs to the main level of the police station. With being on duty so much, he didn't get too many chances to see his mother, his sisters, and his nephews, and he knew that Lynne treasured the time he could spend with them as much as he did. "I'm just gonna stop home to shower and change first, so I'll probably be there in like half an hour or so."

_"All right. Whenever you can get here is fine. I just gotta finish up dinner before you get here."_

"Don't wait on me," Phil replied teasingly, quickly waving to Layla behind her desk as he crossed the lobby and stepped out into the cool evening air. He approached his black Camry, pulling the keys out of his gym shorts' pocket and unlocking it before dropping his bag in the back and climbing in behind the wheel.

_"Well, we'll just play it by ear,"_ Lynne told him. _"See you soon, honey."_

"Bye, Mom." Phil ended the call, lightly tossing his phone to the passenger seat next to him before starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot.

It was roughly a fifteen minute drive to his apartment, and Phil scaled the staircases leading up to the third level after entering the four-digit security code to get into the building to let himself in. He fumbled with his keys for a moment before finding the right one to unlock his door, stepping into the dark living room. He turned on the light and dropped his bag carelessly on the floor in front of the couch, seeing the only mail he had gotten was advertisements before checking his landline phone to see he had no messages there. It was a typical quiet day around the apartment, and that's the way he preferred it.

It didn't take long for Phil to dump his dark tank top and shorts in his laundry basket and quickly shower, pulling on a fresh pair of jeans and a Rancid t-shirt about ten minutes later. He glanced at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, pulling the right sleeve down a little bit to ensure it covered the new bandages he had wrapped his arm in. He didn't want to worry his family unnecessarily, after all.

Phil stepped out of the bathroom, rubbing some water out of his eyes as he picked up his cell phone from where he had left it next to his keys on the small kitchen table. He smirked when he saw he had a text message, the look broadening when he saw it was from his younger sister.

_Get ur ass over here, Phillip Jack! Parker wants to see his uncle!_

Chuckling to himself, Phil pocketed his phone and grabbed his lightweight hooded sweatshirt from where he had left it draped on the arm of the couch after work the day before. His younger nephew of almost seven months, his older being the six-year-old son of his twin sister, Natalie, was becoming a handful for Cheline since he had recently learned how to crawl, and she always joked that he had adopted his uncle's mischievous spirit. Phil was glad he had manipulated his sister's young child, and he couldn't wait to see him too.

He was just pulling on his sweatshirt and grabbing his car keys when he noticed a blinking red light on his answering machine that hadn't been there when he had gotten home. Curious, he crossed the living room and pressed the button to retrieve it, starting to slip on a pair of old tennis shoes just as the message started.

_"Hey, Phil, it's Eve. I–!"_

Phil immediately reached over and stopped it, quickly deleting the message since he didn't want to hear the rest of it. He sighed, running his hand through his damp hair as he slipped his second shoe on. His ex-girlfriend Eve Torres, who he had dated for two years before he decided to break off the relationship around the time Chris had died, had not given up on trying to regain it. Phil had explained to her he only wanted to remain friends since he didn't want a committed relationship with anyone for some time, but she wouldn't accept that. It was then he had decided to cut her out of his life completely since she hadn't stopped hassling him.

"I still need to get that number changed," he grumbled to himself, grabbing his keys from the table and turning off the lights before leaving the apartment.

Ten minutes later, Phil pulled up in front of his mother's house, recognizing Cheline's green Kia in the driveway. However, he didn't see his twin sister's red Jeep. He locked up his car and hurried up the walkway to the house, ringing the doorbell. A couple minutes passed before the door opened, revealing a woman with brown hair that fell a little past her shoulders standing on the other side.

"There you are, you punk!" Cheline said cheerfully, wrapping her arms around him tightly.

Phil hugged her back, laughing a little as he ruffled her hair. "Wouldn't miss it, little sis," he replied, stepping inside before shutting the door behind him. "So, where's that kid of yours that was so anxious to see me?"

"'il!"

Chuckling quietly, Phil watched as the child in question, his head still graced with fair baby hair, quickly started to crawl toward them from where he had previously been playing with a few soft blocks in the living room. "Hey there, Parker!" He knelt down when his nephew got close enough, grabbing him securely around the middle and lifting him up before spinning him around a couple times. A smile appeared on his face when Parker laughed at the motion, but Phil briefly paused when he felt a twinge of pain in his upper right arm, supporting the baby mainly with his left.

"So, Natalie couldn't make it, huh?" he asked as he turned to Cheline, who was smiling as she watched her brother and son.

"No, not this week," Cheline answered, reaching out and lowering Parker's small hand as he made to grab Phil's lip ring. "She's got that baking internship in New York."

"Ah, that's right," Phil muttered, moving his head back a little when the seven-month-old's tiny fingers brushed against his mouth in attempt to reach the piercing again before raising a challenging eyebrow at him. "Why do you want that so badly, little guy? Here. This is better."

Cheline watched as Phil handed her son his police badge and ID card that he always kept on him, quietly groaning when Parker immediately put it in his mouth. "Ugh, sorry, Phil," she said. "You didn't have to give that to him."

Phil chuckled quietly as he watched his nephew continue to chew on his badge with content. "He can't hurt it, Chel," he replied with a slight shrug. "Trust me, it's seen worse than baby slobber."

His sister laughed a little herself, but before she could say anything more, they heard quick footsteps coming closer, and they both looked up in time to see their mother approaching. "Oh, good, you're here, Phil. Dinner's just about ready."

"Perfect timing, then." Phil smiled as Lynne gave him a quick hug, shifting Parker to one arm as he returned it and kissed the petite woman's cheek.

Lynne returned the look as she released him, tickling her grandson's cheek to make him laugh before she turned and crossed the living room to go back to the kitchen. Phil and Cheline glanced at each other.

"After you," the former said with a hint of a smirk on his face.

Cheline glanced at Parker to make sure he was doing all right before she followed after Lynne. Phil looked down at his nephew as well, chuckling quietly when the baby briefly met his gaze, a small smile appearing on his slightly chubby face as he cooed while continuing to chew on the officer's badge. He then followed after his sister, seeing Lynne and Cheline were setting dishes and silverware on the table in the kitchen before the latter set up Parker's high chair, though he slowed to a stop when he saw what was on the television playing in the living room.

It was Chicago news footage of the hostage situation that had occurred in Millennium Park earlier that day, watching again as he, Scott, Nick, and Cody faced Brandon Miller, who still held a terrified Katrina Moore. The footage skipped ahead, and he saw the fury along with a look of almost desperation in his own hazel eyes as he fired two shots, causing the other man to fall to the ground. The bottom of the screen read "Local Hero" followed by his name as footage played of him and Scott hurrying over to their police car with the seven-year-old girl, and Phil quickly picked up the remote from the couch behind him and switched off the television.

* * *

"That'll be five dollars and twenty-five cents, Sir."

Scott sighed quietly before flashing the young woman with dyed red hair a charming smile. "Couldn't get an officer discount by any chance?" he asked with a quiet chuckle, his eyes traveling to her name tag. "Victoria."

Victoria blushed slightly. "Um, it's not that I don't think you're doing a great job protecting our city and everything, and I think it's great what you did for that girl today, but I really can't give out any discounts..."

His smile lingering, Scott quickly pulled a five dollar bill out of his pocket before checking the dashboard for any loose change. "It's all right, hold on..." he muttered to himself, biting his bottom lip slightly in frustration as he began checking his seat to see if any coins were lying around there.

The young woman sighed as she watched him, her dark eyes flitting to the line of cars that were behind her customer waiting to get their orders from the Starbucks' drive-thru. She could already tell that they were starting to get impatient.

Scott grumbled quietly to himself when nothing turned up there, but he smiled triumphantly when he found a couple dimes and a nickel in the cup holder. "Here ya go!" he said cheerfully, handing over the money to Victoria. He then took his large, over-priced cup of steaming coffee from the red-haired woman and set it in the same cup holder where he had dug up change before driving away from the window and pulling out onto the main road with his radio blaring. He tapped the steering wheel as he drove, quietly beginning to sing along with it.

_"And I think it's gonna be a long, long time_

_'Til touchdown brings me 'round again to find_

_I'm not the man they think I am at home_

_Oh no, no, no, I'm a rocket man_

_Rocket man burning out his fuse up here alone..."_

Ten minutes later, Scott pulled up in front of the house he shared with his parents. When he had been in the Academy and first joined the force as a rookie, he and Phil had been roommates in a two bedroom studio apartment downtown. But when he heard a couple years before that his mother had broken her hip and was unable to work anymore, he moved back in with her to help her, his father, and his little sister out since his younger brother, Greg, was away at college pursuing his dream of being involved with television animation, and Phil had gotten his one bedroom apartment.

Scott took off his seatbelt and left the car, jogging up the walkway to the door and unlocking it before stepping inside the two-story house. "I'm home!" he called, shutting the door again behind him and slipping his shoes off.

Light footsteps greeted him, and he smiled broadly when a small, black-haired girl excitedly ran down the nearby staircase. Scott set his coffee cup on the small table near the door before he moved to stand at the base of the steps when she paused about a third of the way from the bottom, grinning before she jumped down toward him.

"Whoa, girl!" Scott laughed as he held his arms out and caught her small form, feeling her wrap her thin arms tightly around his neck. "Give a guy some warning!"

The girl chuckled too, smiling up at him. "I knew you would catch me," she said confidently.

Scott smiled back, ruffling her dark hair. A playful glint appeared in his eyes as he loosened his arms around her slightly, causing the girl to scream and then laugh when she began to fall a little. His smile broadened as he ensured she didn't, bringing her back up to a comfortable position in his arms. The seven-year-old wasn't his sister by blood, but that didn't mean he loved her any less.

When a representative from an international adoption agency visited the municipal building his mother still volunteered at during the week, she had immediately shown an interest in what the program entailed. She had then proceeded to enroll with her husband, and several steps in the process and piles of paperwork later, they were able to bring Briar, who had only been a baby at the time, to her new home.

"Of course I would," Scott replied. "Always will. And don't you ever forget it." He then proceeded to briefly tickle her side.

Briar laughed, rubbing her nose against her adopted brother's before he set her on the ground. "Mom's outside in the back," she told him. "She wanted to talk to you."

"All right. Thanks, kiddo." Scott watched as Briar hurried back upstairs before he walked through the living room and into the kitchen where the patio door was. He unlocked it and slid it open, stepping out onto the wooden porch. A smile appeared on his face when he saw his fair-haired mother crouched in her garden in the setting sun, tending to the flowers and vegetables she was preparing to grow for the quickly approaching summer.

"Hey, Mom."

Denise Colton quickly looked up, a smile spreading across her own face when she saw Scott was watching her. "Hey, sweetheart," she said, slowly rising to her feet and brushing the dirt off her hands on her jeans as she crossed the yard to the porch. She stopped when her oldest child hurried down the couple steps to meet her, giving him a tight hug. "Glad you're home safely."

"Always, Mom," Scott replied with a grin when she released him. "Never a question."

"Well, of course I worry, you know that," Denise told him, brushing a couple strands of hair that had fallen loose from her ponytail behind her ear. "I saw the news today. I'm so glad you found that poor girl. I'm very proud of you and Phil."

Scott chuckled. "Well, it was because of Phil that she's able to go home to her parents tonight," he muttered. "He took a chance the rest of us didn't."

Denise smiled, setting her hand on his cheek. "It was all of you." Scott nodded, and she gingerly walked up the steps to the porch behind him. "I've gotta start on dinner. Your father's plane is going to land soon, and it won't take too long for him to get a taxi here." David Colton was the vice president of a successful business firm, and his job often took him away from home for semi-long periods of time.

"I can go pick him up," Scott offered as he followed his mother back into the house. "Save him some money."

"Are you sure?" Denise wondered. "I don't want you to feel like you have to since you just got home. I'd do it myself, but..."

Scott brushed her hesitance off. "Nah, it's no big deal, Mom," he assured her. "Not a problem whatsoever. Plus it'll be good to see Dad."

Denise smiled before quickly kissing his cheek. "All right, I'll give him a call then," she said. "I'll get dinner going while you do that. I've got no idea what I'm gonna do yet..."

"Anything's fine, Mom," Scott replied. "I'm hungry."

Laughing a little herself, Denise playfully smacked his arm before she left the room to call David. Scott smirked as he sat in a chair at the round table, looking around the familiar kitchen he had grown up in. His gaze ran over the antique breadbasket and sugar bowls that sat on the counter under the window to the refrigerator that was covered with pictures he and Greg had drawn when they were kids along with Briar's added ones. He then heard the girl in question run down the stairs and into the kitchen, quickly sitting on his lap since she wanted him to play one of her handheld electronic games with her, and it was then Scott fully realized how good it was to be home.

* * *

Nick precariously balanced his bottle of Mountain Dew, a hot cookies and cream flavored cappuccino, three white chocolate Kit Kat bars, and two packs of mint ice cream gum in his hands as he stood on the front porch of his house. He shifted most of the items from his gas station stop on the way home to his right arm as he reached for his keys where they sat in the side pocket of his jeans, but then he quickly moved them back to his left when he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his gold wedding band, holding the two gum packs between his teeth as he slipped it on his left ring finger with a little difficulty. He loved his wife, but he never liked to wear his ring while he was on duty since he didn't want to take the chance that she could get dragged into cases he was working on and be put in harm's way if whatever felon they were after should see it. But, he reasoned, he usually remembered to put it on once he left the station and not when his hands were so full.

He once again started to shift everything to his right arm, but he gasped quietly when the soda bottle and three candy bars slipped through his grasp and landed by his feet on the porch with a _thud_. Nick winced when a small splash from the cappuccino cup landed on his hand, sighing with frustration as he watched the Mountain Dew roll off the porch behind him. Even though he had burned his finger in his attempt to keep it from falling too, at least he hadn't dropped the hot beverage all over the place.

Then, he glanced up when he heard familiar laughter, a sound that always lifted his heart, and saw his beautiful wife leaning out the window above him, her deep brown hair tied in a messy ponytail behind her head. "Having trouble, hun?" she wondered with a smile.

Nick grinned as he chuckled quietly, taking the packs of gum from between his teeth. "Nah, no trouble at all," he told her. "I'll be right in."

His wife shook her head slightly. "No, I'll be right down," she said before she disappeared from the window.

With another sigh, Nick hurried down the porch steps and ran down the slightly slanted walkway, bending over and picking up the fleeing Mountain Dew bottle before it hit his car. He then jogged back up to the porch just as the front door opened and his wife stepped out, one hand resting on her lower back. He smiled as he approached her, his light eyes passing over her larger stomach. When she had told him after a particularly difficult case that she was pregnant, Nick had been the happiest he had ever been in his life, even though they hadn't been planning on having a child yet. The past nine months had at times been very trying, but it had been worth it since at any time now, he was going to be a father. Nick was still as excited as he had been when she had first told him, but he was also incredibly nervous. He only hoped that he could be an able father to his child.

"Here, I'll get these," Charity Nemeth muttered, beginning to crouch down to grab the three white chocolate bars.

"No, no, I got it," Nick said quickly, reaching a hand out to stop her. "Here, you take these, and I'll get those. Careful, it's hot."

Charity smiled as she took the cappuccino and two gum packs from her husband's hands as he bent down and picked up the candy he had gotten for her. Nick knew it might have been cheesy or cliché, but it was that same smile that had won him over when he had met her for the first time six years before when he had first started on the force as a rookie. He had been at a café with Phil for a quick lunch during their break, and she had been waitressing to help make her way through art school. She had him at, "What can I get ya?"

Nick returned the look as he straightened up. "Let's switch," he told her, taking the packs of gum and giving her the Kit Kats. "Those are for you, after all, and I'm out of gum for when I'm on duty."

"Well, thank you. You remembered I've been wanting these." Charity's smile broadened for a moment before she leaned forward and met his lips in a quick kiss. "Though you don't always have to be a show-off."

"Nah. Just for you, babe," Nick joked with a smirk before he kissed her again, a bit longer this time.

Charity finally pulled away, taking his free hand in hers as they walked inside the house. Nick shut the door behind them with his foot before slipping his shoes off and walking into the kitchen, setting the Mountain Dew bottle and mint ice cream gum on the table. Charity followed after him, watching as he ran his left index finger under cold water in the sink.

"Did you burn yourself?" she asked with concern as she approached her husband.

Nick glanced at her when he felt her petite hand begin to rub his back. "It's not serious," he answered with a small smile. "Just a small splash of that." He nodded to the cappuccino in her other hand.

Charity chuckled quietly, taking a quick sip before setting it on the table next to his soda. "Sorry about that. But as I said before, that's what you get for being a show-off."

"It pays off when you do it right." Nick gave his wife a wink as he turned off the water before drying his hand.

"Yes, I know." Charity sighed as her smile waned before she wrapped her arms around Nick, resting her head on his chest.

"Everything all right?" Nick wondered, lightly rubbing her shoulder.

Charity nodded. "I'm just glad _you're_ all right," she muttered, closing her eyes for a moment. "I was watching the news earlier, and just seeing you guys and that gunman..."

Nick sighed, kissing the top of her head. He knew well the dangers the profession he had a passion for presented, and it was one he didn't have an easy time leaving his wife, especially his pregnant wife, every morning for since anything could go wrong at any time. But despite these dangers, he loved his job as he loved her, but it was a true relief and joy every night he came home to her.

"I'm not going anywhere, Charity," he finally said, tilting her face up to look at him. "I wouldn't leave you." A smirk appeared on his face as he lightly set his hand on her round stomach. "Or little Nicky junior."

Charity rolled her eyes as she shook her head slightly, a quiet laugh escaping from her. "And what if it's a girl?" she pressed, setting her hand over her husband's that had yet to leave her stomach. Though they could have found out the gender of their child months before, they had both agreed that they would rather wait to find out.

"Hmm." Nick thought for a moment before he grinned. "Nicole."

"You're impossible," Charity muttered, though her smile lingered.

"All right, all right. You can pick the middle name," Nick conceded with a wink.

Charity laughed a little as she lifted her other hand and ran her fingers lightly through his bleach blond hair. Nick rested his forehead against hers, but before he could say or do anything more, he quickly looked down at her stomach.

"The baby's kicking," he said, his smile broadening.

"I can feel it," Charity replied with a slight wince, keeping her husband's hand in place. "Does that all the time when you're not home."

Nick met Charity's gaze for a moment, his eyes shining, before he met her lips in a loving kiss. He had a job that gave him a true sense of purpose, he had the most beautiful, wonderful wife he could ever ask for, and soon, he was going to be a father. Though there were always uncertainties ahead for him, he didn't see how his life could get any more perfect.

* * *

Cody sighed as he stirred the eggs a bit more before pouring them into the frying pan on top of the stove. He rubbed his eyes, tired after the long day of not only successfully getting Katrina away from her captor, but also the interrogation by Chief Matthews when he had arrived at the scene after Phil and Scott had left with the seven-year-old. But at least they had been able to get the girl home, and that was the most important thing to him.

However, the officer was glad that he had also had a small chance to relax as soon as he got home before he started to make dinner. Cody smiled slightly to himself as he tilted the pan a little to get the butter and eggs to mix together. After the busy day they had all had, his spirits had been lifted slightly upon seeing he had received a text message from his father, Dusty Runnels, when had gotten home. It had been a simple "good job," but since the man had once been a great officer himself, it meant a lot to him.

He then moved his eyes down to the floor when he heard a quiet bark, smiling slightly at the small black labrador retriever, the runt of her litter, sitting expectantly at his feet with her tail wagging as he began to add some shredded cheese and a couple of cubed ham pieces into the pan before turning on the stove underneath it. "Don't tell Mama," he muttered, dropping one of the small meat squares to the waiting puppy and chuckling quietly when it was eaten immediately.

Cody was used to cooking since he had lived on his own for quite some time after he had graduated from high school and joined the Academy, and even though he had recently moved into this bigger house with his girlfriend, he still did the cooking quite a bit of the time since they mostly had different schedules. He was home earlier almost every night, so it was a task that was a bit easier for him to do.

Then, Cody glanced away from the pan for a second when he heard the front door unlock, and knowing that his girlfriend had just gotten home, he stirred the mix a couple more times before leaving the kitchen after the puppy, who was running as quickly as she could across the living room. A smile appeared on his face as he watched Layla hang up her lightweight hooded sweatshirt before taking her heels off with a sigh and setting them next to his tennis shoes by the door.

"That Barbie doll finally show up?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his tone as he crossed his arms in front of him.

Layla quickly looked up at the sudden question before turning her attention to the puppy looking for attention at her feet. "Hey, Mackenzie." She picked her up into her arms, scratching behind her floppy ears when she licked her cheek affectionately before setting her down again and approaching her boyfriend. "Nearly ten minutes late. And that's early for her," she answered with frustration, leaning against Cody when he pulled her into his arms.

Barbara Blank was a young woman in her last couple years of modeling school, having been hired to replace Layla for the night shift as dispatcher at the police station for extra money. She also insisted, much to Layla's annoyance, that everybody address her as "Barbie."

"I swear, I'm gonna have a talk with Darren one of these days," Layla continued, closing her eyes briefly as Cody's fingers lightly ran up and down her arm. "She can't keep showing up late. _Plus_, I see her eyeing you up all the time."

Cody raised an eyebrow in amusement, which only served to fuel his girlfriend's irritation. "Well, I am pretty dashing, if I do say so myself," he muttered.

"Come on, Cody!" Layla snapped, smacking his arm and making him laugh. "That's not funny!"

"You know, you're rather cute when you're angry. Your accent is a lot more prominent," Cody told her with a wink. He chuckled quietly when she only glared at him, tightening his arms around her slightly as he pulled her closer to him. "I'm just kidding, Lay, you know that. You're my girl, not some Barbie doll."

Layla smiled up at him, standing on her toes to give him a quick but loving kiss. Cody returned the look as he brushed some dark hair behind her ear. But then, his light eyes narrowed slightly when he smelled something burning. He quickly turned in time to see that a thin layer of smoke was coming from the kitchen, and he cursed under his breath as he released his girlfriend and hurried into the other room, Mackenzie scurrying along behind him as she barked. Layla followed them, covering her mouth as she couldn't help but laugh when she saw what originally was going to be a ham and cheese omelette for her had been burnt.

"Thank you, Cody. This is just what I needed after a long day," she said, leaning against the wall behind her and crossing her arms as she watched him.

Cody continued to grumble to himself as he turned off the oven, lifting the burnt egg with a fork to take a closer look at it. "Even though I don't think you want to eat this, I'll have to wait to throw this away too since we don't want to set the garbage bag on fire," he replied offhandedly, turning to look at her after setting it back down. "Though I'm glad that it lightened your mood after getting off of work late again."

Layla sighed heavily as she nodded in agreement. "And after worrying about you," she added quietly. "I didn't know what was going to happen at the park with that girl..."

His gaze faltered slightly at his girlfriend's words, and Cody slowly approached her and tilted her face up to look at him. "I'm all right, Lay. The important thing is that Katrina got home safely and no one else got hurt."

"Yeah," Layla agreed with another sigh, trying to give him a hopefully reassuring smile as she took his hand in hers. "It's just that so many things could have gone wrong, and I didn't want to–!" Her sentence was cut off, however, when Cody leaned down and met her lips in a deep kiss. Layla slowly wound her arms around his neck as she returned it with the same fervor, allowing him to pull her closer when he set his hands on her hips.

"Try not to worry about it, Lay," he murmured when they finally pulled apart. "I know it's always a risk, but I've made it this far. I'll be fine." He smiled, brushing his fingers lightly over her cheek. He chuckled quietly when his girlfriend nodded in silent response.

Then, Cody looked behind him at the burnt egg again before he draped his arm over Layla's shoulders, his smile broadening when he saw Mackenzie had propped herself up on her back paws against the stove to try and sniff at it. "What do you say we go out to dinner tonight?" he suggested. "It's been a while since we've done that."

Layla looked back at him with surprise. She couldn't even remember the last time they hadn't been so busy where they could have a date night just to themselves. "I would like that," she replied. "Let me just go get changed, and–!"

But Cody chuckled as he kept her at his side. "You look fine, Lay," he said. "Beautiful even. Come on, let's just go now."

The Englishwoman looked back at him for a moment before she smiled. "All right," she muttered, taking the hand of his arm that was still around her when he kissed the side of her head. "Let's go."

* * *

"Cheater."

Cheline looked up at Phil, who was sitting cross-legged on the living room floor across the low table from her. "I am totally _not_ cheating!" she protested. "'Congee' is a word."

They had finished dinner about twenty minutes before, and after the siblings had cleaned up the dishes for their mother, the three of them had started on their traditional game of Scrabble. Lynne watched with amusement as Phil and Cheline got into their usual heated contest, Parker soundly sleeping on the latter's lap. Her son always won these games, but that didn't stop Cheline from continuously trying to knock him down a notch.

"Then what is it?" Phil wondered.

"It's a Chinese breakfast dish made with rice," Cheline told him matter-of-factly. "And the only word I could make with the letters I had."

"Never heard of it."

"Just because _you _haven't heard of it doesn't mean it's _not_ a word."

"It's a word, Phil," Lynne added with a chuckle, causing Cheline's eyes to gleam triumphantly while Phil playfully sulked. "I've actually made that dish a couple times. We'll have to do that when you're over next. Now go before I steal your turn."

Phil gave her a look of mock horror. "You can't do that, Mom," he said.

Lynne smirked. "Then go, my dear," she replied.

Grumbling to himself, Phil looked at the letters he had before him– P, I, C, P, L. What word could he make with _those_ letters? He moved his hazel eyes to the rest of the board, looking at the words that the three of them had already made to see if he could add to any of them.

But he never got the chance.

Phil was just starting to lift one of the P's when a loud _crash_ filled the living room as a large rock sailed through the wide window.

**Author's Note**: So, we have our first cliffhanger. Get used to them since this story will be full of them and I am notorious for them, lol. But now that we're introduced to our four main officers, we continue forward in this unfolding mystery. Spot any hints? There aren't too many, but possibly a couple mini ones. If they weren't spotted, never fear! We'll review at the end. Hope you liked it! Your reviews are much appreciated. Thanks!


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing associated with the WWE. Just any OCs! Trouble is not mine either.

**Summary**: AU. "Never take anything for granted. For everything can be taken away in a heartbeat." When a brutal attack causes Phil Brooks to lose his memory, he struggles to not only piece his life back together and regain what was lost, but also to discover who still wants him dead.

**Author's Note**: Thanks again for the reviews! Things will definitely start picking up now, and we'll soon be in for a wild ride, lol. Enjoy this chapter!

_Chapter 3_

The loud _crash _caused Parker to wake up, and he immediately began to cry. Cheline held her son close to her chest as she and Lynne both quickly rose to their feet and backed away from the Scrabble table, standing close together as they stared at the broken window with fear. Phil hurried over to them and began pushing on their arms to get them to move.

"Get out of the living room," he ordered sharply, glancing down at Parker when the baby began to cry harder. "Go into the hall and keep low. Stay away from any windows!"

Lynne nodded, grabbing Cheline before they left the living room. Phil watched them before quickly glancing around, picking up a sharp metal poker that was leaning against the brick fireplace before throwing the front door open and running out into the night. He usually carried both his badge and his gun on him, but when he attended gatherings with his family, he always kept the latter safely locked up back at his apartment since he didn't want to have it around his young nephew. He cursed to himself, knowing this incident couldn't have happened at a less opportune time.

Phil pulled his badge off his belt in case it was needed, anxiously looking up and down the dark street for any sign of who could have thrown the rock through the window. The loud sound of squealing tires reached his ears as the smell of burning rubber assaulted him, and he was only able to watch as a dark car sped away from the house. He ran down to the street and squinted after it, only able to make out a couple digits on the Illinois license plate– 3, 4, H.

"Shit!"

Keeping the three figures locked in his memory, Phil sighed as he returned his badge to his belt and went back into the house. He could still hear Parker crying as he locked the door behind him and set the poker back in its proper place before he picked up the large rock from the middle of the floor. "You can come back in here," he called out, tossing it back outside through the hole in the window.

A few moments passed before Lynne and Cheline cautiously came back into the living room, both appearing shaken. Parker's cries had quieted somewhat as he clung to his mother, and he started to calm more since his uncle was no longer raising his voice.

"What happened?" Lynne asked quietly. "Did you see anything?"

Phil shook his head slightly as he hugged her. "Not much," he admitted with frustration. "Just caught a couple digits off a license plate. Speaking of which, do you have a slip of paper and pen I can borrow?"

"Sure, honey." Lynne hurried into the kitchen as Cheline turned to her brother, unconsciously holding Parker closer to her.

"What now?" she whispered.

Phil gave her a small, hopefully reassuring smile as he wound an arm around her shoulders. "I'll call the station to have someone take care of the window," he told her, quickly kissing the side of her head. "Though all the guys on duty might be patrolling right now. Ah, well. They'll send someone over."

* * *

"You would have _me_ come over. And I was just about to win at Trouble too! You're a jerk, man."

Phil smirked at his best friend's complaint. "Not my fault you're the one Barbie called," he replied, helping Scott set the next heavy wooden board he had picked up from the station on his way over in place over the shattered window. The two off-duty officers were standing inside the living room to cover it up until the window could be replaced, Lynne had run upstairs to get the vacuum cleaner to take care of the broken glass on the carpet, and Cheline was giving Parker a bottle in the kitchen. "Though when she called me back to say you were on the way since no one there was available, she told me that she had tried calling Cody first but didn't get an answer."

Scott laughed as he began to hammer the nails in on his end. "You know what I would love to see?" he wondered. "Her and Layla in a cat fight. I swear, Lay's gonna snap one of these days if Barbie doesn't stop undressing her man with her eyes. Plus she's mad anyway that she keeps turning up to work late. But that's just added incentive."

"Can't blame her," Phil muttered, taking the hammer from the other man to get his half of the board secure. "That girl needs to show a bit more responsibility to get to work on time. Has Lay talked to Darren yet?"

"I don't think so," Scott replied. "Not that I know of, anyway. She should though. Barbie needs talking to. A pretty face might help with her modeling plans, but not as a dispatcher. No one calling sees it anyway."

Phil chuckled as he and Scott lifted up the second board to set in place beneath the first. "I'm sure she's a decent person..." he began, pausing when Scott raised an eyebrow. "What? Just trying to give her the benefit of the doubt."

Scott shook his head slightly as he started on pounding in the nails on his side. "Have you even tried talking to her? Like outside of work stuff."

"No."

"Hmm."

Phil took the hammer from the other man when he was finished. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked.

Scott shrugged, but a smirk had appeared on his face. "Up to you, man," he answered.

Shaking his head slightly, Phil pounded the nails into the second board on his half before checking both of them to make sure they were secure. He wanted to give his mother as much peace of mind as possible.

They were just picking up the third and final board to cover the window when Lynne came back downstairs with the vacuum cleaner. Scott glanced over his shoulder as he started on pounding the nails in, watching as she plugged it into the nearest outlet. "Sorry, Lynne, we'll be out of your way in a sec," he said. Since he had been friends with Phil and his family for so long, he was one of the few people, besides Nick and Cody, who could call her by her first name instead of "Mrs. Brooks."

"Oh, that's okay, Scott," Lynne replied heavily with a sigh as she sat on the couch. "Take your time. I just don't want you guys stepping on broken glass with just your socks."

Scott's gaze faltered slightly as he handled the hammer to Phil, who was looking at his mother with worry. Though Lynne had to be shaken up by the incident, she hadn't really shown it. But that was the woman Phil had grown up with. She had always been strong.

"A bit late for that, I think," Scott muttered jokingly, brushing a couple small shards from the bottom of his feet.

Phil finished pounding in the nails, checking the three thick boards one more time before stepping back. "It'll hold, Mom," he told her with a small smile.

Lynne returned it as she slowly pushed herself to her feet. Scott and Phil moved away from the window, the former stopping when he accidentally bumped into a small table behind him with a lamp and framed photograph on it, causing the second item to fall the short distance to the floor.

"Oops. Sorry about that."

Phil glanced down at the picture that had fallen, bending over to pick it up. His eyes scanned over the six smiling faces looking back at him, and he couldn't help but smile slightly in return. It was a photo that had been taken years before when he was in his last year of middle school. He was standing on the right side of the picture with his twin sister, Natalie, standing close to him while Cheline, who had only been in third grade at the time, was sitting on their mother's lap. Beside Lynne and behind him and Natalie was a man with graying hair and glasses, and Phil felt his gaze falter slightly. His father, a man who had his love and respect, though one he hadn't gotten along well with during his high school years, who had passed away earlier that summer. And standing behind their parents was Michael, their older brother who had been in his third year of high school at the time the photograph was taken. Phil hadn't heard a word from him since he had finished high school while Michael was away at college, not since he and their father had gotten into a huge argument over some important financial matters. When Phil had confronted Michael about walking out on the family over the incident and stealing a lot of money from them, he had been cut from his older brother's life completely too, having been estranged ever since.

Pushing these memories aside, Phil set the picture back in its proper place on the table beside the lamp, watching as Lynne lifted the vacuum cleaner and began walking toward them. He reached out to take it from her, but she shook her head and set her hand lightly on his arm.

"I'll get this, honey," she said with a slight smile. "You and Scott do what you have to do now."

Phil sighed as he nodded, quickly kissing her head before looking at Scott and gesturing to the kitchen. They both left the living room, seeing Cheline still sitting at the table giving Parker his bottle.

"Is he asleep?" she wondered quietly as they entered the kitchen.

"Um..." Scott stopped near her, bending over a little to see the baby better. "Not quite. He's looking at me."

Cheline laughed a little, running her fingers through her son's fair hair when the sound of the vacuum cleaner from the living room startled him. "That's to be expected, I guess," she muttered. "He was really scared."

Phil sighed as he put the hammer back in its proper drawer before turning to his sister. "Is he feeling better now?" he asked.

"Yeah, he'll be fine," Cheline answered with a smile as Parker cooed when Scott gave him his finger to hold. "He's a tough kid."

Chuckling, Phil slowly crossed the room to join them, running his hand lightly over the baby's head. "Yeah, that's my nephew." Parker gave him a small smile.

"So, are you going to report this?" Scott glanced at Phil as he gently moved his finger to lightly bounce Parker's small hand, making him laugh a little. "Like more than just calling it in, I mean."

Phil nodded. "I'm gonna fill out an incident report when I go into work in the morning," he told him.

"And then what?" Cheline wondered as Scott began making funny faces at her son, causing him to giggle more.

"Well, it was probably just a couple kids, but Darren will get some people to look into it just in case," Phil explained as he leaned against the table with his arms crossed, thinking about his boss. "I'll probably even look into it myself to see if I can find anything. I was able to get a couple digits off a license plate."

Scott quickly looked up at him. "Do you have 'em on you?"

Phil nodded as he reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. Scott took it and unfolded it with slight difficulty with the use of only one hand. "I think there were other numbers or letters in between, though."

"That's all right," Scott muttered as he looked over the three figures. He then pulled the pen he usually carried with him out of his pocket, using his teeth to take the cap off. "All right, little man, I'm gonna need my hand for a sec." He carefully pulled his finger out of Parker's iron grip, quickly writing "3,4,H" on his palm before giving it back to the baby and returning the pen to his pocket.

"We can look more into it tomorrow," Phil said while slipping the paper back in his pocket, watching with amusement as his nephew put his best friend's finger in his mouth once he was finished with the bottle Cheline had been giving him.

Scott sighed as he looked down at the child, who cooed contentedly in response, before smiling and looking at the other man. "Yep," he replied. "I was thinking of even taking a glance on my laptop at home, but I don't know if I'll find anything with that. I don't have the same programs, after all."

"I just want to run that plate and get this over with," Phil muttered, mainly to himself. He then glanced down at his nephew when Parker began to fuss. Cheline sighed, holding the baby closer to her after he released Scott's finger.

"Shh. I know you're tired, sweetheart..."

Phil crossed his arms again, watching intently as his sister stood when Parker wasn't calmed before walking out of the kitchen to bring him to another room. He then glanced at Scott when he leaned against the table beside him, both of them sighing quietly.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

_No matches found._

Phil sighed as he slumped slightly against the back of the couch, running his hand through his gel-free hair before pushing his thin glasses higher up the bridge of his nose. It had been nearly an hour after the rock had crashed through his mother's window before they had finally gotten Parker to calm down enough to sleep for the drive to their house, and he and Scott had stayed with Lynne for a couple hours after that to ensure she was settled down as well. He kept his cell phone close, however, just in case his mother needed to reach him for anything. And even though he was home and all he wanted to do was relax, lounging in a tank top and sweatpants without his contacts in, he could not allow his mind to rest. For some reason, the incident earlier that night still unsettled him.

However, just like Scott had said, he was having a difficult time finding anything on the incomplete license plate from his home computer. He knew he would probably have better luck using the station's programs, but he had to at least give it a try. Taking a deep breath, Phil leaned forward and set the three hastily written figures on the low table in front of him, and his hazel gaze faltered when it landed on one of the framed pictures he kept there.

It was another picture of him and Chris Irvine, one that had been taken only a couple days before the fatal robbery. He gazed at his own smirk and the older man's broad smile for a long moment. At that point in time, he had never even considered what would happen that would cause him to lose his mentor. It never should have happened.

Not to him.

His eyes then flickered to the other two pictures he kept close to the one of him and Chris, smiling slightly when his gaze traveled over the four grinning faces of him and his three closest friends from high school from when they had all last gotten together a couple years before and the one of him and Scott when the latter had graduated from the Academy. The younger man was absolutely beaming, and he could clearly see the pride he himself had for his best friend in his smile.

Then, Phil was brought out of his thoughts by his landline phone ringing. Confused by who would call at such a late hour, he stood from the couch and crossed the room, not recognizing the cell number that was flashing on the screen. He figured a telemarketer wouldn't be calling so late, but knowing it might be an emergency of some sort, he answered it. "Hello?"

_"Thank God you answered, Phil."_

Phil immediately wished he hadn't picked up the phone as he turned over his shoulder to look at the clock that hung on the wall. "Eve, why the hell are you calling me at two in the morning?" he demanded with frustration.

There was a brief pause on the other end. _"I... I'm sorry," _Eve said shakily. _"But, y-you're the only one I could call, Phil..."_

Sighing, Phil reached under his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Sometimes he wished he wasn't an insomniac. And surely there were other people she could have called. "Okay, what is it?" he wondered, knowing he was probably making a mistake.

Eve sighed with relief. _"I was driving home from work when my car broke down," _she explained. _"And now I'm stuck downtown. Please, I need help."_

Phil leaned back against the wall. "Buses and the 'L' train run all night, my dear," he reminded her. "Use those tips of yours and catch one." His ex-girlfriend worked as a bartender at the Fuze, and he clearly remembered all the extra money she had earned in tips.

_"Come on, Phil," _Eve muttered, and he could hear the unease in her tone. _"I... I know we're not on the best of terms, but please. I am _not _in a good part of town. Please."_

For a moment, Phil had no answer. She was right in saying that they weren't on good terms since all she had done was harass him since he had broken up with her. But maybe it was because of his sense of duty, or perhaps he really wasn't as bad of a guy as some people thought, but he sighed and ran his hand through his dark hair as he pushed off from the wall.

"All right. Where are you?"

* * *

Eve Torres pulled her light sweatshirt closer around her as she looked at the dark street around her nervously, trying to hide the low-cut sports jersey she wore for bartending and wishing she could do something about the athletic booty shorts and knee-high Converse too. Why did her car have to break down _now _of all times in one of the worst parts of town? It had never given her problems before.

Sighing, Eve pulled the new cell phone she had gotten the night before out of her pocket to check the time. She was surprised that Phil had actually answered her call since he didn't know this number, and not to mention she hadn't talked to him in months, but she was relieved that he had. At least she would be able to get home. But what the hell was taking him so long?

Pulling her brown hair into a loose ponytail behind her head, Eve put her phone away again and opened the driver's door of her powder blue Lincoln, sitting down behind the wheel and setting her purse in the passenger seat next to her. She put her keys in the ignition and tried to get it started one more time, almost hoping she hadn't called Phil out for no reason, but she sighed with frustration when the engine still wouldn't catch.

"Stupid piece of crap..."

Eve reached out to shut the door she had kept open, feeling better about waiting in the car for Phil that late at night, but she was surprised when it wouldn't close. She looked to her left, and a scream escaped from her when she saw a well-built man with a hood concealing his features looking back at her. In his hand was a pocketknife.

"Hey, beauty, what are you doing out here all by yourself?" he wondered, leaning a little closer to her.

Thinking quickly, Eve began to reach for her glove compartment where she kept her pepper spray, but she was prevented from doing so when the man grabbed onto her ponytail and pulled her back, placing the blade of the knife against her throat.

"I wouldn't do that, sweetheart," the man said, and Eve heard the menace in his tone. "Now step out of the car, nice and slow. And hand over your bag too."

Not seeing any other option, Eve grabbed her purse and slowly stepped out of the car, careful of the sharp edge still against her neck. The man laughed as he turned her to face him. "That a girl," he muttered. "Now why don't you slip out of that sweatshirt of yours?"

Eve sighed, keeping a tight hold on her purse as she did what he asked. But before the man could do anything else, another sharp tone startled them both.

"Police! Drop the weapon!"

Knowing that voice, Eve quickly turned in time to see Phil was standing beside his dark Camry, his gun drawn and aimed at the hooded man with his badge in plain view. She then knocked the knife out of the man's hand by elbowing him in the jaw before she kneed him in the stomach, causing him to stumble back. Phil moved toward them, his gun still raised, and her would-be assailant quickly hurried away and disappeared into the night. Making sure that her ex-boyfriend's attention was still on where the man had run off to, Eve quickly bent over and picked up the knife, straightening up in time to give Phil a small smile when he turned to face her.

"Well, it seems those Jiu-Jitsu and self-defense classes you took came in handy," he said casually as he lowered his gun.

"Plus I took up kickboxing," Eve added with a slight laugh. She noticed Phil was wearing a black tank top, dark sweatpants, and his glasses, realizing that he had been resting when she called. Her eyes traveled over his toned, tattooed arms, noticing hints of the new ink he had gotten on his chest. It was the side of him she missed most, off duty with his guard down.

However, he didn't even appear to really notice her as he looked at the ground around her car. "Where's the knife?" he asked, crouching down to search better.

"Um, I don't see it," Eve answered quietly.

Phil looked up at her, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly as he rose to his feet. "Where is it, Eve?" He arched a challenging eyebrow when she shook her head.

Eve sighed, looking away from his intense hazel eyes as she slowly held her hand out. Phil took the small weapon and slipped it into his pocket, not saying anything more about it as he started to unload his gun. Then, he was surprised when she suddenly leaned forward and wrapped her arms tightly around him.

"Thanks so much for coming, Phil..."

Phil sighed, rolling his eyes as he set his hand on her shoulder and lightly began to push her away. "Eve..." When she didn't seem to get the hint, he pushed a little harder, finally getting her to let go. "Just grab whatever you need and get in the car."

Sighing, Eve did one final sweep of her own car to make sure there wasn't anything important she was missing as Phil went to sit behind the wheel of his to wait, not finding anything. She locked it up and hurried to the car behind hers, quickly sitting in the passenger seat. She looked around it as her ex-boyfriend began to drive away, remembering the many times she had been in this car with him as the familiar faint smell of fresh mint and autumn swarmed over her.

"Do you live in the same place?"

Eve was brought out of her memories by the sudden question, and she turned to Phil. "What?"

Sighing, Phil quickly glanced at her before turning back to the road ahead of them. "Do you live in the same place?" he repeated somewhat irritably. "I need to know where I'm dropping you off."

"Oh." Eve brushed some loose strands of hair behind her ear. "Yeah, I live in the same place."

Phil nodded, not saying another word. Eve's hands fidgeted in her lap nervously. "You're looking well," she muttered, trying to make conversation. She sighed when he didn't respond.

They drove along the waterfront in silence, the tension between them not going unnoticed. Phil soon reached out and turned up the volume on the radio to provide some noise, and Eve rested her elbow on the open window and stared out at the lake, shimmering in the downtown lights, while the cool wind hit her face.

Soon, Phil pulled into the driveway of Eve's small, one-story house, the walkway lit with short lanterns and the front lawn filled with various flowers. He didn't shut the car off, and she assumed that he wasn't going to stay too long.

"Your car will be towed shortly if it hasn't been already," Phil told her. "I called before I left and gave them the number you called me on. They'll call you when it's ready to pick up."

Eve gave him a small smile. "Thanks," she said. "Um... I'll see you soon."

Phil nodded slightly as he looked back at her. Eve could tell by the look in his eye that she should probably leave, but instead, she slowly leaned toward him a little. Phil moved back when her face drew nearer to his, however, and she sighed as she grabbed her sweatshirt and purse and opened the door. Without a word, she stepped out and closed it again behind her, hurrying up the walkway to her house and stopping in front of the door. She turned to look over her shoulder, but Phil had already driven away.

**Author's Note**: Well, there are a couple important things to pay attention to here in this chapter. If they weren't seen, that's okay! We'll be going back to them as we go along. Thanks for reading! Your reviews are much appreciated. Thanks!


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing associated with the WWE. Just any OCs! I also do not own Batman.

**Summary**: AU. "Never take anything for granted. For everything can be taken away in a heartbeat." When a brutal attack causes Phil Brooks to lose his memory, he struggles to not only piece his life back together and regain what was lost, but also to discover who still wants him dead.

**Author's Note**: Thanks for the reviews! I appreciate them! So, since we're pretty much past the introductory stage of this story, things will start to move at a quicker pace. Clues will also start to be a bit more frequent, so keep a sharp eye out! Oh, and I just thought I'd bring up the point that I listed William Regal as the other main character besides Punk, and he hasn't shown up in the story yet. Well, wait no longer for that because here he is, lol! Enjoy and happy hunting! :)

_Chapter 4_

Chief Darren Matthews looked in his rearview mirror as he tried to brush a few rebellious strands of his sandy hair out of his face, finally giving up when they simply refused to cooperate before stepping out of his car. The sun was just beginning its upward trek, casting a pink and golden tint to the dark clouds that still lingered, as he crossed the parking lot toward the police station. He had always been an early riser, so this was one part of the job he had never minded. He actually preferred to get a head start on the day since there was plenty of work to be done.

As he neared the building, however, his eyes narrowed slightly with confusion when he saw a third car besides his own and the night dispatcher's. Usually he was the only one here this early when his officers were out on patrol.

"Good morning, Barbara," Darren greeted cheerfully as he did every morning when he stepped through the automatic doors. "Everything wen' well, I presume?"

Barbara Blank jumped slightly from where she had started to doze off behind the desk, brushing her light hair behind her ear as she smiled at her boss. "Yes, Sir," she said. "We got a call last night from one of our off-duty officers. He filed an incident report when he came in about half an hour ago."

Darren stopped in front of her desk and took the manilla folder she was offering him, his brow furrowing with concern as he skimmed over the top sheet inside. "Brooks, huh?" he muttered. "He's here now?"

"Yes, Sir," Barbara replied, beginning to pick up the couple empty granola bar wrappers and half-empty bottle of Gatorade since Layla would be coming to replace her soon. "He's in his office. I'm not exactly sure what he's doing or why he's here so early. I didn't think it was my place to ask."

"Well, thank you, sunshine," Darren told her, giving her a small smile. "I'll ge' this taken care of."

"All right, Sir."

Darren shook his head slightly as he pushed open a door that led out of the lobby, passing many doors on either side of the hallway as he walked toward one specific office near the end. He sighed quietly once he reached it, knocking twice on the door.

"Come in."

Hearing the exhausted tone of the officer's voice, Darren pushed open the door and immediately noticed Phil, who was sitting cross-legged in the chair behind his desk as he stared intently at his computer, looked just as weary as he sounded. The second desk across the room from him was still unoccupied. "Your shift doesn' start for another hour, Phil," he commented lightly, a small smile appearing on his face as he entered the room. "I've never questioned your hard work, but I don' even have you assigned to another case ye'. Wha' are you doing here so early?"

A moment passed before Phil finally looked away from the screen when he heard the familiar English accent and rubbed his eyes. "I'm just looking into something, that's all," he explained with a sigh. "I couldn't find anything on my home computer, so I came here. Thought I'd get something done before my actual shift started."

"Yes, Barbara gave me your inciden' report," Darren said, holding up the manilla folder for emphasis. "I'm sorry abou' the disturbance a' your mother's place. How is she doing?"

Phil smiled slightly. Darren had been a good friend to both him and his family for the six years he had been a part of the police force, especially after Chris had died. "I called her before she left for her school," he replied. "She didn't sleep much last night, but that's to be expected. Besides that, she's doing all right. As all right as she can be, anyway."

Darren nodded. "Were you able to find anything ou' abou' who could have done tha'?" he asked. "Or if i' was just something random?"

"I got three digits off a license plate," Phil answered, picking up a small slip of paper on his desk and holding it out for the Chief. "There were some other numbers between them, though. I got a lot of hits when I put it in the system, so I'm working on trying to narrow it down."

"Any luck?" Darren took the paper from him, looking over the hastily scrawled "3, 4, H" that was written on it.

Phil smirked. "Some," he told him. "It was definitely an Illinois plate, but there are still quite a few possibilities."

Darren sighed as he set the paper back on the desk. "Look, Phil, why don' you take a break?" he suggested. He arched an eyebrow when the younger man opened his mouth to protest. "You have an hour until your actual shift starts. I _don't_ want to see you in here again until tha' time. And trust me, I'll be checking."

He chuckled when he saw the disgruntled look on Phil's face. "I know you wan' to find ou' who did this, but don' worry. I'll pu' a couple people on i'. We'll figure i' ou'." When the officer still didn't look too pleased, he gave him a small smile. "I don' wan' you to overwork yourself, Phil. That won' do you any good, nor will i' help your mother."

Phil once again opened his mouth to argue, but not being able to offer a suitable comeback, he sighed and leaned back in his chair. Darren nodded once. "Come on," the older man said. "Why don' you ge' a workout in? I know you're fond of the facility downstairs."

A moment passed before Phil reluctantly nodded himself and rose to his feet. "Yeah, it'll be good to clear my head a bit," he agreed, rubbing his eyes as he walked around his desk and headed toward the door.

However, he was stopped by Darren's hand on his shoulder when he reached him. "I know this inciden' is personal to you, Phil, and that's why I wan' you to ease up on i' a bi'," he cautioned. "It's no' a good idea to le' things become too personal. You can still look into i' on occasion, but I need you elsewhere. All right?"

"Darren, I–!" Phil began, but he was interrupted by the Chief raising his hand slightly.

"You're one of my top officers, Phil, one tha' I trust implicitly," Darren muttered. "I'll need you on more serious matters, a' least until after your lunch break."

Phil's eyes narrowed slightly in confusion. "What's after my lunch break?" he wondered.

Darren chuckled quietly. "Don' tell me you forgo'? You'll be meeting your new rookie today. He'll observe you before starting tomorrow."

The younger man inwardly groaned. In truth, he had completely forgotten that he was going to be shadowed for the second half of his shift that day. And with everything that was on his mind, it was something he wasn't necessarily looking forward to. "I kinda did forget," Phil admitted quietly, a hint of a smile appearing on his face.

"I figured," Darren replied with a smile of his own. "So after lunch, I would like you to patrol. Show him the ropes. I'll have some people here looking into this license plate. Sound good?"

Phil would have much preferred to be investigating who had caused the disturbance at his mother's house, but knowing he couldn't argue with the Chief, he nodded instead. "Yeah, that's fine," he half-heartedly agreed.

Darren tightened his hand on Phil's shoulder. "That's a lad." Then his smile broadened slightly. "Speaking of your mother, I do hope tha' she can join us tomorrow, along with your sister. They seemed to have a fun time last year."

Despite himself, Phil smiled as well. The annual police force cookout was always a success, for it was not only a time for the officers to relax, but also to bond and get their families together. It was an event he always looked forward to. "Yeah, I mentioned it to them last night," he told him. "They would love to."

"Good. I look forward to seeing them." Darren released the younger man's shoulder. "Now, why don' you go ge' your workou' in? You've go' abou' fifty minutes."

Phil smirked. "See you soon, Darren."

Darren's smile slowly vanished as he sighed, watching the officer walk down the hallway in the direction of the lobby with concern. He had never doubted Phil since his heart was always in the right place when it came to his work, but he didn't want to see him get too wrapped up in something that was already very personal. He had seen time and time again, not only while he was Chief but as a younger officer as well, that it had proven to be many men's undoing. And that was something he didn't want to see happen to Phil. He had too bright of a future ahead of him.

Sighing again, Darren stepped out of the room and shut the door, once again attempting to brush the rebellious strands of hair out of his face but not succeeding, before he walked in the opposite direction toward his own office. He had a feeling it was just going to be one of those days.

* * *

Barbara pulled into a spot near the back of the Starbucks' parking lot, locking up her red PT Cruiser before walking toward the building. Usually she went straight to her apartment after work to get some sleep before she headed to Barbizon for her modeling training, but lately she had picked up the habit of stopping for a drink first. She slipped her designer sunglasses on top of her head when she stepped inside, sighing when she saw the long line ahead of her. Of course, this was when most people were leaving for work, so it wasn't too much of a surprise that it was so busy.

However, the line moved pretty quickly, and Barbara smiled when she saw her good friend Victoria Crawford behind the counter, smiling pleasantly at a woman who was clearly in a rush as she hurried away. Usually she wasn't here this early. The couple people before her left just as quickly, and Barbara felt her smile broaden when the other woman noticed her.

"Barbie!" Victoria said with a grin, reaching across the counter and embracing the woman she had known since high school. "Good to see you, girl!"

"Yeah, you too," Barbara replied, her smile lingering. "I've been meaning to call, but I've just been so busy."

"I hear ya," Victoria muttered, brushing some of her dyed red hair out of her face. Her dark eyes flickered to the people in line behind her before turning to the door that led to the back room. "Kev, can you start the second register please?"

A split second passed before Kevin Kiley pushed through the swinging door and approached the counter, unlocking the cash register across from Victoria. Barbara watched him for a moment, her gaze running over his toned arms. From what she remembered of what her friend had told her about him, Kevin had taken this job to earn some extra money as he attended college on a full scholarship for football.

Kevin really didn't take much notice of her, however, as he flashed a brilliant white smile at the people in line behind Barbara. "I can help the next person in line over here."

"So as I was saying, I know you've been really busy," Victoria continued as though there had been no interruption as she began on the iced vanilla latte she knew her friend liked. "With your modeling school and that job of yours. How's that going, by the way?"

"Um..." Barbara turned back to Victoria as a middle-aged man passed her to place his order with Kevin. "Not bad. Long hours, but it's nothing I can't handle."

Victoria smiled. "Handling all those big bad policemen all right?" she asked teasingly.

Barbara laughed. "They're good guys," she answered. "I don't see them too often since they're either off-duty or on patrol by the time I'm working, but I see them come in."

"As long as they're not giving you any trouble," Victoria muttered with a laugh. "Do you have any days off coming up? Maybe we can hang out."

"I have Saturday night off this week," Barbara told her. "A girl's night out would be absolutely incredible."

"Saturday night is usually good for me, as long as they don't randomly put me on for that time." Victoria smirked as she glanced at her coworker. "If so, I'll just have Kev take over for me."

Kevin glanced up after he handed a woman back some change. "Hey, Saturday's my night off too," he said in a slightly begrudging tone, though there was a small smile on his face.

"Oh, yes, how can I forget?" Victoria replied with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. "That's when you and your little frat buddies all get together." She chuckled quietly and reached for a straw and lid for the iced latte she had just finished making as Kevin laughed as well.

Barbara watched them almost thoughtfully for a moment, smiling slightly when Victoria placed her drink on the counter in front of her. "You know what, could I have a cream cheese bagel to go along with that?" she wondered. "I think I'll have it for here today."

Victoria nodded. "Yeah, sure thing, sweetie!"

"Thanks." Barbara smiled slightly as her friend went to grab the bagel she had ordered, sighing quietly as she glanced around at the other people waiting in both lines. She watched as a man with dark blond hair that was styled to the side and a handsome face who was older than she was slowly passed her to give his order to Kevin, and she found that she couldn't tear her gaze away. Her eyes lingered on the pleasant smile he gave to the younger man, and though she knew she shouldn't be staring, she couldn't help but think she had seen him somewhere before. She just didn't know where.

"Here you are, Barbie!"

Barbara gasped quietly when she heard the cheerful tone and quickly turned to look at Victoria, who had set her bagel and cream cheese on the counter beside her iced latte. "Oh, thank you," she said, quickly reaching into her purse and pulling out her wallet. She handed her friend the money for her make-shift breakfast before glancing at the man again, blushing slightly when she saw he was looking back at her while Kevin prepared his order. She lowered her gaze as she grabbed her food, and after one more smile at Victoria, she briefly acknowledged her friend's comment about texting her about Saturday before hurrying away from the counter.

The only available table away from the two lines was next to the door, and Barbara set her bagel and latte down before sitting in the seat with her back to the counter. She took a sip of the iced drink before starting to unwrap the bagel, noticing that whoever had sat at the table before her had left behind that day's newspaper. Barbara one-handedly unfolded it before breaking apart the bagel and spreading the cream cheese on both halves, able to tell by the picture that the cover story was about how seven-year-old Katrina Moore had been rescued. She smiled slightly as she looked at the picture a bit more closely, seeing it was of Phil and Scott taking the girl back to their police car.

"Oh, so that girl was found and returned to her parents. That's good to hear."

Barbara nearly dropped the half of her bagel that she had just taken a bite of, startled by the sudden pleasant voice behind her. She glanced over her shoulder, seeing it was the same man who had caught her staring at him in line, now holding a large steaming tea cup in his hand. "Um, yeah," she muttered, picking up one of her napkins and quickly wiping her mouth with it in case any crumbs had lingered behind.

The man laughed as he watched her, his light eyes shining slightly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he said, gesturing at the paper she was holding. "I just couldn't help but notice the headline on my way out. I don't watch the news too much, you know? Too many depressing things."

She was sure that another blush had appeared on her face when the man directed that charming smile at her, and Barbara quietly cleared her throat. "Yeah, I know what you mean. I'm the same way," she replied, hoping she sounded a bit more confident than she felt. She just wished she remembered where she had seen this man's face before, or at least recall who she knew who slightly resembled him. "I was glad to see the guys pull this off successfully, though. I was worried about that girl."

"Oh, you know them?" the man wondered curiously, leaning on the table slightly as he took a cautious sip of his hot tea.

Barbara nodded, a proud glint in her eye. "I work with them," she confirmed. "I'm the night dispatcher at the station."

The man gave her another charming smile. "I apologize if I'm stepping out of line, but you don't strike me as the type to work in a police station."

Once again, Barbara felt color rise to her cheeks. "Um, it's just a job to get me through modeling school," she explained quietly.

"Now _that_ suits you better," the man told her with a slight nod.

Barbara couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face as she took a sip of her latte. The man chuckled quietly as he turned his attention back to the paper she still held. "That man there," he said, pointing to the dark-haired officer on the left side of the picture. "He's gotten quite a name for himself recently, hasn't he? I've seen his face around more lately."

"Phil's a good guy," Barbara confirmed. "A hard worker. He won't agree with any of this hype he's been getting, but yeah. He's the one who got that girl back."

The man nodded slightly, almost thoughtfully. Then, another smile appeared on his face as he turned to Barbara. "Again, I apologize for startling you before," he muttered. "I just couldn't help but notice what you were looking at."

"It's all right." Barbara's smile broadened. "It was nice talking to you for a little bit."

"Yeah, you too," the man agreed cheerfully as he took a couple steps back from the table. "Maybe I'll see you around again."

Barbara blushed slightly as she nodded. "Yeah, maybe," she told him. "Oh, my name's Barbie, by the way."

"Nice to meet you." The man gave her a quick nod. "Good luck with your modeling. I'll see ya around, kid." And with that, he took another sip of his tea and turned, slowly walking through the door and out of sight.

* * *

Phil pulled open the drawer of his desk, putting his unfinished bag of hot Cheetos inside next to his pack of sour gummy worms before taking a sip from his Pepsi bottle. Unusually for him, he had spent his lunch break in his office instead of going out with Scott, Nick, and Cody to whatever fast food restaurant they were going to that day. Even though Darren had put his best friend in charge of the case of the disturbance at his mother's house, he still wanted to do what he could to help. He knew the Chief well, and he had the sneaking suspicion he gave the case to Scott so his mind could be put more at rest.

He was about to shut the drawer again, but before he could, Phil's eyes landed on the colorful corner of a comic book he always kept there underneath a stack of other miscellaneous papers. Sighing quietly, he carefully pulled it out and looked it over as a small but somber smile appeared on his face. He had been a Batman fan for as long as he could remember, and this particular custom made book had been given to him for his birthday the year before by Bryan Danielson's, a good friend of his for over a decade from high school, girlfriend and local comic book artist, April "AJ" Mendez. But taking the place of the Dark Knight and his faithful sidekick were none other than himself and Chris Irvine, and he couldn't think of anyone better to fill the role of Batman than his former mentor.

With another quiet sigh, Phil put the comic back in its place in the drawer before he shut it again. He then glanced over at the desk across the room from him, watching as the younger man who occupied it, his dark hair tied back into a small ponytail behind his head, focused intently on the computer screen in front of him. A slight smirk appeared on his face.

"Barreta, isn't it?"

The man quickly looked up, a startled look passing briefly over his face, before he nodded slightly. "Um, just Trent would be... would be fine..." he muttered.

Phil smirked slightly as he looked back at the clearly nervous man. Trent Barreta, a recent officer like Scott but who had gained that status a bit earlier, had always seemed to be intimidated by him, ever since he had been transferred into his office when Nick moved out. And, he realized, he had always been so busy that he had never attempted to get to know him.

"All right, Trent," Phil said, shifting a bit more comfortably in his chair. "What are you working on so intently over there?"

Trent glanced at his computer screen. "Um, I'm looking into a license plate for Officer Colton's case..."

Phil's eyes narrowed slightly before he rose from his seat and crossed the room before stopping behind the younger man's chair. He looked at the screen Trent had been so intently studying, seeing that he was in the process of trying to narrow down license plates with the digits "3, 4, H" in them.

"Make sure you only look at Illinois plates," he muttered, patting Trent on the shoulder before walking back toward his desk.

Trent looked after him curiously. "You've looked into this already?" he asked.

Phil sighed as he lowered himself back into his chair. "I was there when the incident happened," he answered, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket when he felt it vibrate. He saw the text was from Cheline, but before he could answer it, there were two short knocks on their office door.

"Come in," both officers said automatically, glancing at each other as the door opened to reveal Darren. Trent immediately straightened up more in his seat while Phil just stayed slightly slumped back the way he was.

"I need you ou' here now, Phil," the Chief said, a slight smile on his face as he turned to the latter. "It's time to meet your new rookie."

**Author's Note**: So, a bit of a lighter chapter here. But don't let it fool ya, lol! Things will only continue to pick up! Thanks for reading! Your reviews are much appreciated. Thank you!


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing associated with the WWE. Just any OCs!

**Summary**: AU. "Never take anything for granted. For everything can be taken away in a heartbeat." When a brutal attack causes Phil Brooks to lose his memory, he struggles to not only piece his life back together and regain what was lost, but also to discover who still wants him dead."

**Author's Note**: Thanks for the reviews! I appreciate them! There are definitely clues from here on out, seems like some where picked up in the last chapter, so keep an eye out! And also remember things aren't always what they seem, which could go for any of these characters. So, hope you enjoy this one as well, and happy hunting! :)

_Chapter 5_

"Scott, I'm not exactly sure what you want me to say other than I watched a rock sail through my living room window."

The officer sighed quietly as he followed Lynne Brooks down the packed hallway, bustling with students as they ran from their cubby areas with their coats and backpacks toward the main doors to get picked up since the final school bell had just rung. "I know, Lynne, but I'm trying to get this off the ground," he said. "I just need to know if you have _any _idea of who could have possibly done this just in case it wasn't something random," he replied. "Anything at all would help. You've been like a second mom to me since I was a kid, and trust me when I say your safety is the most important thing to me. Please, Lynne. I don't want to take any chances here."

Lynne stopped abruptly, Scott nearly running into her as she quickly turned to face him. She gave him a small smile when she saw the concerned look on his face. "Look, Scott, I don't know anything more than you do," she muttered, setting one hand on his arm. "I honestly don't know who could have done this. I mean, I've never had any trouble with the neighbors, my children are respectful young people when they visit, and I don't have any trouble getting along with the teachers here or the parents of my students. So no, I honestly have no clue who could have done this. It wouldn't surprise me if it was just something random. The streets aren't a safe place these days. That's why I'm always concerned about you boys."

A slight smile appeared on Scott's face at the comment, though it waned slightly when he noticed the dark rings under the petite woman's eyes. He remembered how Phil had told him she hadn't really gotten much sleep the night before, even though the two of them had boarded up the shattered window as securely as possible. Perhaps he would swing by her house after his shift and double check them, just to put her mind more at ease. "All right, Lynne. Thanks for your time. Another officer and I are extensively looking into possible license plates to try and narrow down suspects. We'll be in touch if I have any more questions."

Despite the situation, Lynne couldn't help but chuckle quietly as she shook her head. Scott raised an amused eyebrow. "What?"

"Nothing," Lynne said, though her broad smile remained. "I just can't help but think of you and Phil as children running around the house playing cops and robbers or pretending to be superheroes." She laughed again, brushing some hair out of her face. "Now look at you. You're both official officers. Funny how things work out."

Scott smiled himself before he reached forward and pulled her into a quick hug. "Yeah, I think we always knew what we wanted to be," he replied. "But I'll catch you later, Lynne. Don't worry, we'll get this taken care of."

"I know you will," Lynne told him, patting his shoulder. "You always have."

Chuckling quietly himself, Scott watched as Lynne turned and continued to make her way toward her classroom to pick up her things to leave for home before he began to walk toward the main door to head back to his squad car. But before he could make it, he slowed to a stop when he heard yelling, and he saw three boys standing in a half-circle around a smaller fourth one, all working to pull his backpack away from him. He was putting up a good fight in trying to keep it, but it wouldn't be long before the bigger, stronger boys took it.

"Hey!" Scott began to make his way through the crowd toward them. The three boys who were attempting to take the backpack looked at him with wide eyes before taking off running, leaving the fourth boy behind with his bag but close to tears.

Sighing, Scott cautiously approached him. "You all right, buddy?" he asked.

The boy nodded as he sniffed. "Thank you," he answered in a mumble.

"Hey, you're welcome." Scott smiled down at him. "What's your name?"

"Sean," the boy said, not able to meet his gaze.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Officer Scott Colton." He held his hand out, his smile broadening slightly when the boy half-heartedly shook it. "What grade are you in, Sean?"

"Fourth." Sean then bent over and began to pick up the papers that had spilled on the floor from the boys' attempt to take his backpack.

"Here, let me help you with that." Scott crouched down on the floor and began to pick up the sheets that had landed further away from the boy. "So, what–!" But he was interrupted by the sound of something harder hitting the floor, and he saw the panic that crossed Sean's face before he looked down to see what had fallen. His eyes widened slightly when he saw something he hadn't expected to see. "Sean, what is this?"

Sean's face paled as he watched Scott pick up the cardboard cutter that had fallen out of his backpack. "I... I wasn't going to use it, I swear," he stuttered. "Please, I... I just... I was just going to scare them..."

Scott sighed heavily as he looked up to meet the boy's anxious gaze. "Do you know how serious this is, Sean?" he wondered. "I believe you when you say that you weren't planning to use it to hurt anyone, but you're still in possession of what's considered to be a weapon."

"I... I'm sorry..."

Looking down at the cardboard cutter he had picked up for a moment longer, Scott slowly rose to his feet, holding out the papers he had collected to the boy. Sean hesitantly reached out and took them before quickly stuffing them in his backpack. "I'm going to have to report this to the principal," he told him, ignoring the horror that appeared on Sean's face. "It's a policy I can't break as an official. But first, we need to talk about why you have this."

Sean sighed. "Those boys you saw trying to take my backpack are always bullying me," he explained quietly. "You don't know what it's like dreading coming to school every day because you don't know what they're going to do to you next. And I'm just tired of it... I want them to stop."

"Have you tried talking to anyone about this?" Scott pressed. "The principal? Your teacher? Your parents?"

"Yeah, but the principal and my teacher don't listen," Sean muttered. "And my parents are hardly home. They're always so busy."

Scott gazed at the boy for a long moment, instantly feeling sorry for him. "You know, when I was your age, I was teased a lot too, buddy," he said.

Sean looked up at him with surprise. "Really? _You_?"

"Yeah." Scott chuckled quietly. "I wasn't the... thinnest child. That made me an easy target for most other kids growing up. My best friend had always been bullied too because he was different, but we got through it together. That's what bullying is. A lack of understanding of those who are different than you. Is there something that you like doing that a lot of other kids don't?"

"Well... I like drawing," Sean mused. "I draw a lot..."

Scott placed his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Keep up that drawing, buddy," he told him with a small smile. "If it's something you love to do, don't worry about what other people think. What's most important is that it's something that you enjoy."

Sean smiled slightly in return as Scott straightened up. "Well, Sean, I still have to report this to the principal," he muttered, glancing down at the cardboard cutter he still held. "But don't worry. We'll get this bullying situation straightened out. If you ever need someone to talk to, I think I know a teacher here who will be more than willing to listen to you."

"Who?" Sean looked up at him curiously.

Scott smiled slightly. "Have you ever had Mrs. Brooks?" he wondered.

Surprisingly, Sean nodded enthusiastically. "She was my second grade teacher!" he confirmed.

"Well good! She's an amazing woman," Scott said, ruffling Sean's blond hair slightly. "She's a good person to talk to. But for now, why don't you show me where your principal's office is."

Sean sighed as he closed his backpack before putting it over his shoulder, slowly starting to walk down the hallway as though he were on death row. Scott chuckled quietly to himself, remembering that walk well since it was one that he had taken many times himself. It had always felt like the end of the world, but yet he had continued to wind up in that same position anyway.

However, before they could reach their destination, Scott slowed his pace slightly when his cell phone began to ring from his pocket. An amused glint appeared in his eye when he saw Lynne's name flashing on the screen before he answered it. "Hey, we were just talking about you!"

But Scott's smile instantly vanished when he heard Lynne's slightly shaking tone. _"Are you still here?"_

Scott's eyes narrowed slightly in concern. "Yeah, I'm still here," he told her. "Just taking a student to the principal's office. Why, what's going on? Everything okay?"

Lynne sighed. _"Scott, you need to come to my classroom. Someone's been in here. It's an absolute wreck. And I don't want to touch anything, but I'm not sure if anything's been taken..."_

"All right, Lynne, just hang in there, okay?" Scott worried his bottom lip between his teeth as he tried to calm her down. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

_"Okay..."_

"See you soon." Scott ended the call and put his cell phone back in his pocket before turning his attention to Sean. "All right, we need to make this as quick as possible, okay, buddy? I've got some other things I have to tend to as well."

Sean nodded, seeming to realize the importance of the situation. Scott passed a weary hand over his face as he followed the boy toward the principal's office, thinking about the recent events. First, a rock had broken Lynne's living room window, and now her classroom had been ransacked. It was becoming clearer that the first incident may not have been as random as he had once thought. Someone seemed to be targeting her, but the big question on his mind was why. Lynne was one of the sweetest women he knew, and he couldn't imagine why someone would want to do this to her.

Then, Scott inwardly groaned. The even bigger question on his mind was instantly made obvious as he opened the door of the principal's office when Sean led him to it.

How was Phil going to handle this?

* * *

"So, how's Charity doing? Is she coming to the cookout tomorrow?"

A smile appeared on Nick's face as he slowed their squad car to a stop at a red light. "She's doing fine," he answered, glancing at his partner in the passenger seat. "I mean, with as close as she is now, she's gone through some rough patches. But yeah, she's doing all right. And she'll be there tomorrow. She's looking forward to it."

Cody returned the smile before Nick started driving again when the light turned green. "Good, it'll be nice to see her again," he said. "So, as you said, it's not much longer now before you'll be a dad. You excited?"

Nick chuckled quietly. "You know, before I met Charity, I never did see myself as a dad," he muttered. "I mean, I could never really see myself being the type, you know? And then after we got married, I thought that one day I'd like to raise a couple children with her, but not nearly so soon. Not when I'm gone most of the time. We haven't even talked about having them." He paused for a moment, his smile returning. "But yeah, I'm excited. Really nervous, but excited."

"I understand you're nervous, man," Cody replied. "But you'll be a good father, you'll see."

"Thanks, man." Nick glanced at Cody again. "So, I heard from Barbie that she tried calling you last night to check out that disturbance at Lynne's place but couldn't get a hold of you. What was up with that?"

Cody laughed a little. "Barbie," he muttered, shaking his head slightly. "I took Lay out last night and really didn't feel like answering. I don't know what's up with Barbie. I guess Lay thinks she's got this crush on me, or something."

Nick smirked. "Well, she does seem to stare at you a lot," he muttered. "Not sure how you don't notice it, man." His smirk broadened when Cody simply rolled his eyes. "So, you and Layla last night, huh? That must have been fun."

"Oh, shut up," Cody said, making Nick chuckle. But then, his light eyes faltered slightly. "Hey, can I ask you something?"

Sensing the change in his tone, Nick's smile slowly vanished as he glanced at his partner. "Yeah, sure, man," he replied. "What's up?"

Cody sighed. "You know Lay and I have been together for a long time now," he muttered, waiting until Nick nodded before he continued. "Well, I was thinking of... well... um..."

Nick raised his eyebrows, looking back at Cody. "Wait, are you thinking of proposing to her?" he wondered.

There was a moment's hesitation before Cody once again looked back at Nick. But before he could answer, his attention was drawn to what appeared to be a wooden dresser drawer that almost hit their car from seemingly out of nowhere.

"Shit!" Nick hissed, pulling over to the side of the road. "What the hell was _that_?"

Cody looked out the window, his eyes passing over the drawer that had nearly hit them to the clothes that had fallen out all over the sidewalk. He jumped slightly when a second drawer suddenly landed near the first, and he pushed open the door and stepped out of the car while Nick did the same after shutting it off. Both officers looked up to an open third story window of an apartment building, hearing raised, angry voices from inside. Cody noticed that a couple other people who appeared to be tenants of the same building were gathered by the front door near them, looking up at the same open window warily.

"Oh, thank God you guys are here," a middle-aged woman said when she spotted them.

"What's going on, ma'am?" Cody asked, nudging Nick's arm as he walked over to her. He pushed both his partner and the woman back a little when a large vase shattered on the sidewalk near them.

"That couple moved in recently," the woman explained, nodding up to the window. "They're up to all hours of the night, drinking, playing loud music, arguing. This is the first time they've started throwing things, though. From what we've gathered, she's trying to kick him out."

Nick opened his mouth to reply, sighing when he ducked to avoid a potted plant. "All right, we'll take care of it," he muttered, glancing at Cody with exasperation. "_Before _someone gets hurt."

The woman smiled at them, grasping Nick's hand for a second. "Thank you."

"It's our job, ma'am." Nick gave her a charming smile before he turned his gaze to Cody and gestured to the door. The dark-haired man nodded in agreement, and both officers stepped through and began climbing up the stairs to the third floor. They passed many other people who were standing in the halls to see what all the commotion was before they reached the apartment facing the street, not too surprised to find that the door was cracked open.

"Police!" Nick announced, knocking on the door a couple times before stepping inside with his badge out while Cody did the same as he followed him into the living room.

The couple was young, consisting of a skinny woman with strawberry blonde hair and gages in her ears and a tall, well-built man with spiked dark hair, a piercing in his nose, and dark tattoos covering his arms. They both stared at the officers for only a brief moment before continuing whatever fight they had been having.

"Oh, look! Now you got the _police _involved!"

"So that's _my_ fault?! _You're_ the one yelling and throwing shit!"

"You're yelling too!" The woman then threw the smaller vase that was in her hand, and Nick and Cody moved to the side to avoid it as it shattered against the wall behind them.

"All right, both of you stop!" the light-haired officer commanded with frustration, putting his badge back on his belt as he approached the man. "Or we'll have to bring you both down to the station on count of domestic disturbance."

"Don't look at _me_, man!" the man said, taking a step back away from Nick when he drew closer. "That bitch is the one who–!"

"Oh, no! Don't pin this on _me_!" the woman snapped angrily, grabbing one of the chairs from the kitchen table. "_You_–!"

"That's enough!" Cody snapped, quickly reaching forward and taking the chair from her grasp. "Both of you!"

However, the woman put up a fight as she lashed out, a couple of her long nails scratching across Cody's cheek. Nick sighed as he reached for the man. "All right, that's it. You're both coming with us."

"No, this isn't _my_ fault!" the man protested. He tried to pull his arm out of the officer's grasp, ending up elbowing him in the jaw.

Nick's eyes narrowed before he tightened his hold on the man, pulling his arm behind his back and pushing him up against the nearby wall. He grabbed the handcuffs from his belt and quickly secured them around the man's wrists, glancing over his shoulder and seeing Cody had managed to cuff the struggling woman as well.

"You have the right to remain silent!" Nick told them, having to raise his voice over the couple's angry yelling. He glanced at his partner as he pulled the man roughly away from the wall to walk in front of him, guiding him toward the apartment door as Cody followed with the woman while he continued to give them their rights, before muttering under his breath, "And I highly recommend you exercise it."

* * *

Matthew Cardona sat nervously in a chair against the wall in the lobby of the police station, absently fidgeting with his sunglasses. The Long Island native had always wanted to be an officer after his uncle joined the police force when he was a child, and when his family packed up and moved to Chicago when he had been in the fifth grade, he decided to follow the same path and joined the Academy after he graduated high school. Though he officially didn't start until the next day, he was feeling anxious just to be shadowing the officer who would be his mentor.

Sighing quietly in attempt to calm himself down, Matthew's wandering eyes landed on the far wall of framed photographs that served as a memorial for all the officers in the Chicago police force who had lost their lives in the line of duty. The smiling faces looking back at him were a reminder of the risks this job entailed, but also the pride of the men and women who took such risks for the occupation they loved. His gaze passed over the most recent officer lost, Chris Irvine, before turning toward the dispatcher's desk when he heard her chuckle quietly.

"Don't look so nervous, Matthew," Layla said with a kind smile. "You're not expected to do much today. Just simply observe while you go out on patrol. And ask questions. Lots of questions. You couldn't have a better mentor. Phil is a good man. Knows what he's doing."

Matthew nodded as a small smile appeared on his face too, a quiet but still nervous laugh escaping from him. "Thanks..."

Layla's smile broadened, but before she could say anything more, the door that led to the back offices opened. Matthew immediately stood up, nearly tripping over the chair he had previously occupied in the process, as Darren entered the lobby, shortly followed by a younger man with slicked back dark hair and scruff lining his serious face. He set his sunglasses on top of his head, smiling at the two men as the door shut behind them.

"Ah, there you are, Matthew," the Chief muttered, a smile on his own face as he crossed the room to him with the other man. "I would like to introduce you to Phil Brooks. You'll be shadowing him today before you start working with him tomorrow."

"Um, you can just call me Matt," Matthew greeted, holding out his hand to the other officer.

Phil gave a curt nod as he briefly shook his proffered hand. "Officer Brooks," he replied a bit more formally.

"Don't intimidate him too much, Phil," Layla muttered with a broad grin. "I just got telling him you were a good man who knew what you were doing."

"What could possibly give you the idea that I'm a good man, Lay?" Phil wondered, arching an eyebrow as a small smile appeared on his face when he glanced over his shoulder at the Englishwoman.

Darren chuckled quietly as he watched his two workers before he turned his attention back to the rookie. "Matthew, I trust our lovely dispatcher has filled you in on wha' your task is for today."

Matt quickly nodded. "Yeah, I'm just going along with Officer Brooks to observe him on patrol today, right?"

"That's correct," Darren told him, setting his hand on his shoulder. "And make sure you ask any questions you might have. Phil is no' too scary. He doesn' bite, at least no' hard." Phil smirked while Matt laughed a tad nervously. "All right, why don' you guys head ou'? Phil, I'll be waiting for your report."

"And you'll get it," Phil muttered, reaching into the pocket of his uniform to grab the keys to his squad car before glancing at Matt. "All right, why don't we–!"

However, he was interrupted when the doors to the station opened and loud yelling and death threats filled the room. Phil raised an eyebrow as an arguing young couple, their arms held behind them by handcuffs, was pushed along by Nick Nemeth and Cody Runnels, both officers looking incredibly weary.

"Oh, just shut up already!" the former said with frustration, but his words went unheard.

Darren cleared his throat when the four drew closer. "Um, just bring them to holding," he told Nick and Cody. "I'll be there shortly to deal with them."

"No problem, Chief," Cody replied with a wry smile, taking a couple steps away from his partner when the woman lashed her foot out at her boyfriend.

They were both about to walk into the back hallway when Darren stopped them, eyeing the couple warily as they attempted to reach each other. "Er, in separate cells if you would, please," he muttered. "I don' wan' them to kill each other."

Nick chuckled quietly as he pulled the man back a bit more. "Gotcha, Chief!"

Cody let his partner go through the door into the back offices first as he glanced at Layla. He noticed his girlfriend was watching him with a mix of concern and confusion, and he sighed quietly as he dragged the struggling woman along with him after Nick.

Darren sighed, putting his hand to his head for a moment as the echoing sounds of the couple's arguing finally faded off when the door closed after Cody. But then, he put a smile on his face as he turned to look at the two men still standing with him. "Well, I'd stay a little longer, but I'm afraid I must tend to this mess," he said, placing his hand on Matt's shoulder. "Try to relax, lad. Have some fun. Ge' to know the business and ge' to know Phil. And if you have any questions, _please_ ask. I can' stress the importance of tha' enough. We're all friends here."

Matt nodded as he returned the smile, and Darren squeezed his shoulder before releasing it. He then glanced at Phil and nodded once before turning on his heel and walking through the door that led to the back offices.

"So, does this sort of thing happen a lot?" Matt wondered as he turned to Phil, the sound of the couple's arguing faintly heard until the door closed again behind the Chief.

Phil sighed as he finally got his keys out of his pocket, turning to Matt with a smirk on his face. "Welcome to the police force, kid."

**Author's Note**: Okay, so things are starting to move along a bit here, and Phil's got his new rookie. How will things go for everyone from here? Well, we'll find out! Thanks for reading! Your reviews are much appreciated. Thanks!


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing associated with the WWE. Just any OCs!

**Summary**: AU. "Never take anything for granted. For everything can be taken away in a heartbeat." When a brutal attack causes Phil Brooks to lose his memory, he struggles to not only piece his life back together and regain what was lost, but also to discover who still wants him dead.

**Author's Note**: Thanks for the reviews, guys! I appreciate them! Glad to see you're keeping your eyes out for clues as well as suspicious individuals. Just remember as we go along that not everything is as it seems. With that said, hope you enjoy the next chapter! Happy hunting :)

_Chapter 6_

"So, what you wanted to ask me before was to go ring shopping with you?"

Cody chuckled quietly to himself as he and Nick entered the jewelry store, both donned in the casual white t-shirts they wore under their black uniforms. "Yeah, man," he said, pausing as he looked around the shop a little nervously. "I mean, you've been through this before. I just want to make this perfect for her. You understand that, right?"

Nick sighed as he ran a hand through his bleach blond hair before a small smile appeared on his face. "Of course I do," he replied, patting his partner on the arm. "All right, I'll help ya. The first step would be actually going to look at the engagement rings."

"Smart ass," Cody muttered, causing Nick to laugh as they passed the other customers in the store as they made their way toward the display at the back. His nerves were rising with every step until he finally came to a stop in front of the styles of rings that were for sale. He leaned on the glass counter as he looked at them all intently, exhaling heavily at the sight of the many options before him.

"No pressure, man, no pressure," Nick whispered from beside him with a smile, once again patting the other man's arm reassuringly when Cody rolled his eyes. "No, seriously. Just take your time. The right one for Layla will just jump out at you, trust me."

How making such an important decision could truly be that simple, Cody didn't know. He attempted to give his partner a confident smile, though he felt just the opposite, before he turned back to the many different rings in front of him.

"Do you think she would prefer silver or gold?" Nick asked, hoping to push his friend in the right direction with his choice.

"Um... gold, I think," Cody answered quietly, turning his attention to the part of the display that held only gold rings. "Yeah..."

"May I help you, gentlemen?"

Cody and Nick both looked up at the sudden sound of the slight Italian accent to see a middle-aged man with a receding hairline had wandered over to them, probably drawn by how intently the former was studying the items on sale. Cody nodded slightly, a small smile turning up the corner of his lips. "I'm, um... looking for an engagement ring for my girlfriend," he explained.

The shopkeeper smiled broadly as he moved his light eyes to the rings in the glass display beneath his large hands. "Oh, well I must say that she must be one lucky lady!" he said, causing Cody to chuckle quietly. "If it is the gold rings that catch your eye, may I direct you to these? The women love them."

Grateful for any guidance that he could receive, Cody turned to the rings that the older man was pointing out, seeing that they were all rather decorative. He wasn't sure if one of them would really suit Layla and was about to politely decline when one caught his eye. Compared to the others in the group, it was relatively simple with a band in a Celtic knot pattern and small diamonds in the center.

The store owner seemed to recognize the look in Cody's eye immediately and chuckled quietly. "Ah, there is one that you like, I see," he stated.

Cody nodded as he glanced at Nick. His partner was right. The ring he had in mind for Layla seemed to simply jump out at him as he had said. Nick smiled slightly, but then he quickly pulled his phone out of his pocket when he felt it vibrating. His eyes narrowed slightly when he saw the name that was flashing on the screen, and he quickly answered the call.

"Hey, Charity."

_"Is this a bad time, Nick?" _the quiet voice of his wife came from the other end.

Nick glanced back at his partner, seeing Cody was pointing out the ring he wanted to the store owner, before he took a few steps away from him to talk to her a bit more privately. "No, it's not a bad time," he answered. "Things are kinda slow right now. What's up?"

Charity sighed. "_I just got a call from the hospital about my last ultrasound," _she told him.

"Is... is everything okay?" Nick felt his stomach plummet, and he slowly passed a hand over his face.

A moment passed where his wife didn't say anything. _"Well, they just confirmed something that I've suspected for some time," _Charity finally said.

"What is it?" Nick pressed, unsure if he wanted to hear her response.

_"Nick, we–!"_

But she never got to finish her sentence. At that moment, the door to the jewelry store opened with a loud _crash_ as a couple gunshots rang out. Panicked screams echoed around Nick and Cody as they quickly spun around to face the entrance, everyone else in the shop quickly dropping to the floor and covering their heads protectively as two men wearing black ski masks entered, firing a couple more warning shots at the ceiling.

"Everyone on the ground now! Hands up! And no one gets hurt!"

_"Nick? Nick!"_

The officer heard his wife's anxious voice on the other end, sure she could hear the gunshots. However, he simply sighed, a slightly somber smile appearing on his face though he knew it wouldn't be seen. "Bye, Charity," he murmured. "I love you."

_"Ni–!" _But Nick quickly ended the call and slid his phone back in his pocket, quickly joining Cody as they searched for a place to take cover. The latter watched intently as the two men hurried over to the necklace display and began stuffing everything they could grab into a couple bags they were carrying before he began to sneak a little closer to the armed robbers, reaching for his own gun on his belt as his partner followed along behind him.

But they didn't get very far when one of the men turned and saw them, immediately raising his gun and aiming it in their direction. "Hey, I said down on the ground!"

Instead, Cody and Nick both started to pull their own weapons out. But they weren't quick enough. Nick's eyes widened in horror when he realized too late that the second man had also been aiming right at his partner as he fired.

"_Cody_!"

* * *

Barbara sighed quietly as she pushed her long platinum hair back over her shoulder, glancing up at the lone container of orange juice on the top shelf of the cooler. She had been looking forward to going straight back to her apartment after her modeling class ended that afternoon to get some sleep, but she had remembered when she was almost there that she had to pick up some things she was out of from the grocery store. Her nap before work would have to be delayed.

With another low, frustrated sigh, Barbara opened the cooler and stood on her toes to reach for the juice, the cold door pressing against her back. However, only her fingers brushed against it. Her jaw set, she set her foot on the bottom of the cooler to elevate herself enough to grab the juice carton, but she stumbled a little when she stepped back down.

"Whoa, careful there, Barbie."

Barbara quickly turned as she shut the cooler door, a smile appearing on her face when she saw the man with dark blond hair she had met at Starbucks that morning. "You startled me," she said, setting the orange juice in her cart along with the bread, eggs, and pack of water bottles she was buying.

The man smiled slightly as he began to walk toward her with his own cart, and Barbara noticed he had a slight limp in his left leg. "Sorry about that," he replied as he grabbed a carton of milk from the cooler beside the juice. "It's just funny to see you here."

"Yeah, definitely," Barbara agreed, her smile lingering as they both began to push their carts toward the freezer section. "I just keep bumping into you."

"Must be fate," the man muttered jokingly.

Barbara smiled at him as she pushed her cart ahead to pick up a box of whole-grain waffles. She then glanced over her shoulder as she tossed it in with her other items, noticing the man was comparing a couple different frozen dinners.

"Which one do you think looks best?" he wondered when she brought her own cart back over, holding up two boxes for her to see.

"Um..." Barbara bit her lip hesitantly as she looked from the fish dinner to the cheddar potato meal. "I'd go with that one." She pointed to the latter.

The man nodded as he put the fish back in its proper place. "That's what I was leaning toward," he said, mainly to himself as he grabbed a second box before putting them in his cart. "Also can't go wrong with some macaroni and cheese..."

"Do you live alone?" Barbara asked. But once she realized what she had asked, she quickly looked away, knowing that question was probably a bit too personal.

Surprisingly, the man chuckled quietly. "Yeah, my wife and I got a divorce a few years ago," he answered. "She's got the kids, and I don't see them quite as often as I would like."

Barbara's gaze darkened. "I'm sorry to hear that. You must miss them a lot."

The man smiled slightly as he started pushing his cart again, Barbara walking beside him with her own groceries. "Yeah, I do," he finally muttered. "But it was for the best."

"Oh." Barbara looked at him carefully, unsure of how a divorce would be a good thing unless they had been so unhappy that there had been no other option. She sighed quietly. "But, um, I've been wanting to ask. What's–!"

However, Barbara was interrupted by the feel of her phone vibrating from her low-rise jeans' pocket. The man watched her curiously as she quickly pulled it out, her eyes narrowing when she saw the name of whoever was calling, before she answered it. "Hello? Yes, Chief Matthews, this is a good time." There was a long pause before Barbara's eyes narrowed in concern. "Yes, I'll be there right away. Yep. Bye."

"That doesn't sound good," the man commented as the two of them reached the checkout lanes.

"No, I've gotta hurry," Barbara replied as she started to unload her cart. "Got called in to work. The dispatcher who has this shift had an emergency situation. I'll just do my homework there. Just wish I could have gotten some sleep, but that's okay..."

The man watched her carefully as she pulled out her wallet while the cashier rang up her items. "I hope everything's all right," he muttered.

Barbara nodded as she swiped her credit card. "I do too," she agreed, pushing her cart forward so the bagger could put her groceries inside. "Sorry I have to run. Hopefully I'll see you again soon!"

"I'm sure we'll run into each other again, Barbie," the man said, mainly to himself. A slight smirk appeared on his face as he watched the blonde woman hurry out of the store with her bags. "Soon."

* * *

"So, how many people have you arrested?"

Phil glanced over at Matt, who sat in the passenger seat of his squad car as he attempted to absorb the daily happenings of the police force. "Um, I've lost count," he answered casually as he turned onto another street. He noticed a couple people dumpster diving on their right but simply continued on.

"Wicked," Matt said, making Phil inwardly roll his eyes. Then, his gaze moved down to the gun that was on the other officer's hip. "And I'm assuming you've used that on more than one occasion."

"Yep," Phil replied without much feeling.

Matt's eyes faltered slightly. "Have you... ever killed anyone?" he wondered hesitantly.

Phil sighed as they came to a stop at a red light. He had encouraged his new rookie to ask him any questions he had that would help him understand what the job entailed as Darren had told him to, but he hadn't expected to get asked so many about his own record.

Matt bit his lip nervously. "Sorry," he muttered quickly. "I didn't mean to ask such a difficult question..."

"No, it's all right," Phil told him, slowly driving forward when the light turned green. "Yes, I have killed people we've been after. More times than I care to admit. It's not something I enjoy doing, I'll say that much. Just when I have absolutely no other choice."

Not knowing what to say in response, Matt slowly nodded. Then, he glanced back at the officer he had been assigned to. "Did... did you know any of the officers on the wall in the lobby?" he asked, knowing he had been on the force for quite a few years. He remembered at least a couple of them had been added during that time. "Who died in the line of duty?"

Phil's jaw set firmly as his hand tightened around the wheel in response to the question, and Matt immediately knew that was a form of answer. He decided not to press the matter, but before the other man could say anything in response, they heard the voice of the police station's dispatcher crackle through the radio to report a robbery at a nearby Starbucks. However, Phil's eyes narrowed slightly when the voice he heard wasn't Layla's.

He glanced at his rookie, seeing he looked slightly uncomfortable, and gave him a small smile. "I'm gonna respond to this since we're pretty close, and it'd be a good learning experience for you," Phil told him quietly. "You up for it?"

Matt looked up and met his gaze for a moment, swallowing nervously before nodding earnestly. Phil's smile turned to his usual smirk. "'Atta boy," he said before reaching forward and picking up the small device and pressing the speech button. "On it, Barbie."

A moment passed before the static voice of Barbara Blank returned. _"Thanks, Phil," _she replied. _"We got the call after the robbery occurred, and the manager said that there are no armed suspects in the area."_

"All right, thanks. We'll get it straightened out." Phil hesitated for a moment before sighing quietly. "Is everything all right at the station? Your shift doesn't usually start 'til later."

Another pause. _"Layla was called away on an emergency," _Barbara finally muttered. _"I don't know anything more than that."_

"Okay, Barbie." Phil set the radio back in place before pulling his cell phone out of his pocket and glancing at Matt, who was watching him intently. "Typically speaking, you shouldn't do what I'm doing unless in dire situations," he muttered, glancing down at the small screen as he skimmed through his contacts. "I will report you on it when you're under my watch, is that clear?"

Startled, Matt quickly nodded, but he detected a hint of a smirk on the other officer's face. He knew it was going to take a long time to figure out his mentor.

Phil found he rather enjoyed the alarmed look on his new rookie's face. He hadn't been able to pull the same tricks with Scott since he had known the other man for so many years before he joined the force, but this was going to be a completely different story. He would have fun pushing this kid's buttons to keep him on his toes. As he always said, being an officer was a tough job.

But his worry returned as Phil turned onto a street that would be the quickest route to the Starbucks that had been robbed, and he brought his phone to his ear after finding Layla's number. He wondered why she had been called away so suddenly, knowing it couldn't be a good thing, but he wasn't going to find out then since the call went straight to her voicemail. Sighing quietly, Phil once again skimmed through his contacts before coming to Cody's number, but he was met with the same result. Really concerned now, he tried Nick's number as a last resort, but this also proved to be fruitless as the other officer's phone rang four times before going to his voicemail.

When they reached the Starbucks, Phil had to park across the street since media trucks and curious bystanders were blocking the building. He turned to his rookie as he slipped his cell phone into his pocket, noticing that he seemed to be feeling really nervous. "Just follow my lead and observe," he told him seriously.

"Yes, Officer Brooks," Matt mumbled, fumbling with his seatbelt before climbing out of the squad car after his mentor. He followed the other man through the crowd and past the flashing lights of cameras until they came to two people wearing green aprons being interviewed by a stiff woman with a recorder.

"I'm Officer Phil Brooks," Phil announced, interrupting the interview as he pulled out his badge and quickly flashed it to the reporter. "And this is Officer Cardona." He then glanced at Matt, who clumsily pulled his badge out and showed it as well. Sighing quietly, Phil turned back to the two employees as he pulled out a notepad and pen. "I'm gonna need statements from the two of you. Were either of you working when the robbery happened?"

"We both were," the woman with dyed red hair said shakily, taking a couple steps closer to her coworker as the interviewer left. "I never thought I'd be facing down a gun when I came in this morning..."

Phil nodded in acknowledgement as he made a quick note. "Oh, I'm Victoria Crawford, by the way," the woman added when the man next to her wound a comforting arm around her shoulders, wringing her hands nervously. "And this is Kevin Kiley."

"Okay." Phil quickly jotted down their names. "All right, quick and dirty. What happened?"

Kevin brushed his free hand through his somewhat spiked hair and opened his mouth to reply. But before he could say anything, the four of them looked toward the door of the Starbucks when a loud, heated voice floated out. "_No_! Everyone _out_! _Now_! My store just got robbed! I _don't_ want it all over the damn media!"

Matt glanced at Phil, who simply shrugged. "And who might that be?" he wondered, looking back at the two employees.

Victoria and Kevin glanced at each other as reporters and cameramen filed out of the building. "Our boss," they said in unison.

Phil raised a semi-amused eyebrow. "Was he here when the robbery took place?" he wondered.

"No, he was on his lunch break," Kevin told him. "He came back shortly after the robbery happened."

"Okay, well I think I'll go have a word with him," Phil muttered, slipping his pen and notepad back into his pocket. "Try to defuse the situation a bit." He then glanced at his rookie. "If you just wanna talk to these guys and write down any notes about what happened, that'd be great."

Matt looked at his mentor, startled again. "But... you just told me to observe," he reminded him.

Phil smirked slightly. "You did. You observed how I asked the questions," he countered. "Besides, this is a good learning experience for you since this is something you have to do a lot. It's not too difficult, kid. Just take down notes of what they say." He smiled at Victoria and Kevin. "It's his first day."

"Oh!" Victoria gave Matt a broad smile, though the look faltered slightly due to how nervous she still seemed. "Well, we're not too scary."

"Nah, we'll take it easy on you," Kevin added with a quiet chuckle.

Matt laughed a little himself as he pulled his own notepad and pen out of his pocket, though the sound had an anxious tone to it. "Thanks," he said as he flipped open to the first page. "So, uh, what actually happened during the, um, robbery?"

Phil watched as Matt wrote down notes of Kevin's account of what had happened during the hold up, Victoria adding in a few of her own small details now and then, with his heavily-tattooed arms crossed, making sure his rookie was holding his own before he turned and walked toward the building. He pushed open the door, hearing the little bell above it jingle in greeting, before the angry voice once again came from the back room, growing steadily louder as its owner drew nearer.

"I said _no more reporters_!" The owner of the store stepped out of the back room, but the fury instantly vanished from his face when he saw the police officer. "Oh. Sorry about that..."

However, Phil simply arched an eyebrow and smirked as he gazed at the blue-eyed man who had brown hair styled in a similar way to Kevin's. "Wow, who knew I'd see _you_ of all people here, Mike," he muttered.

The other man gazed at Phil for a moment longer before recognition entered his eyes, and he smiled broadly as he laughed. "Oh, my God. Phil? Phil _Brooks_? Shit, it's been forever, man!"

Phil's smirk turned into a smile as he stepped forward when the other man did, embracing him quickly. It had been a long time since he had seen one of his closest friends from high school. "Yeah, it has!" he agreed, chuckling quietly himself when they pulled apart. "Last I heard, you were heading out to Los Angeles. What happened there?"

Mike Mizanin rolled his eyes as he leaned back against the counter. "Things didn't exactly go according to plan," he said. "Remember that girl I was dating in college who was training to be a model? Maryse? Yeah, well she got her contract in L.A., but little did I know that she was interested in a way that is more than 'strictly business' in the guy that signed her. So, here I am. Running a Starbucks. Seems a bit lackluster, if you ask me."

"Well, at least you're part of a popular franchise," Phil replied optimistically, to which Mike just shrugged. He knew his friend had been looking forward to the opportunity of possibly starting up his own talent agency when he had moved out to Los Angeles with the business and theater degrees he had. Coming back to Chicago to become the manager of a local coffee place must have been a bit disappointing. "But other than this robbery, how are things going for ya?"

"Pretty well. Can't complain too much." Mike smiled. "But I've been seeing _you_ all over the news recently, man. Being a big shot police officer, and all."

Phil lowered his gaze as he shook his head slightly. "Ah, don't pay attention to all that," he muttered. "Just doing my job."

Mike's smile broadened. "Come on, man, you deserve that," he told him, lightly shoving his long-time friend's arm. "But hey, have you heard from Bryan or Kofi lately? It's been a long time since I've seen anyone from the old gang. Far too long. I miss you guys after being in Los Angeles."

The officer smiled again. The "old gang" consisted of the three people that he had known since high school who were his best friends besides Scott. Bryan Danielson had followed in his father's footsteps and had taken over his popular, family-run deli while also teaching a night self-defense class during the week. However, he had turned it into a vegetarian place, which had taken a major plummet business wise at the outset. However, thanks to local comic book artist, AJ Mendez, who had later become his girlfriend since she had made it a routine to stop at the sandwich shop for lunch, more customers had begun to stop in, and business was just as good if not better than it had been when his father ran it.

Kofi Sarkodie-Mensah, the last member of their small group, had attended college to earn degrees in business relations and pre-law. Over the years, he had moved his way up the corporate ladder in a successful law firm, soon becoming one of its chief operatives. He had married his high school sweetheart a couple years before, which was the last time all four of them had gotten together.

"Yeah, I actually see them a couple Saturdays a month whenever I have that night off," Phil said. "We'll actually be meeting this weekend. You should join us if you can. We're always saying how we miss you too."

Mike smiled broadly. "Yeah, I'd love to join you guys!" he replied, pulling his phone out of his pocket. "You said Saturday?"

Phil nodded in confirmation. "Yep, that's when we'll be meeting."

"Great! Let me just see if the number I have for you is still right..."

The two long-time friends quickly exchanged their current numbers. "I'll text you or give you a call when we're meeting up and where," Phil told him, putting his phone back in his pocket when he heard the bell above the door jingle as it was opened again.

"Sounds good!" Mike gave the other man a smile before they both turned and watched as Matt walked toward them with his notepad in hand, Kevin and Victoria following behind him. Phil smirked when his rookie approached.

"So, how'd it go?" he wondered. "Not too hard to do, was it?"

"Fine," Matt said with an excited smile. "We went over all the details so we can start looking into the robbery. Got a partial plate, too."

"Let's see." Phil held his hand out, looking over the rookie's notes when Matt gave them to him. He scanned over the quickly scrawled writing, but he paused as his heart leapt when he saw the four digits of the license plate that Kevin had caught.

_A, 3, 4, H._

Phil immediately remembered the partial license plate he had caught from the incident at his mother's house the night before. If it was the same license plate, the extra letter would be vital in narrowing down the long list of suspects they still had. "Was it an Illinois plate?" he wondered, raising his hazel eyes to the employee in question.

"Um..." Kevin bit his lip as he thought for a moment. "Yeah, it was definitely an Illinois plate."

A hint of a smirk appeared on Phil's face as he quickly jotted down the four digits into his own notepad. "All right, thank you all very much for your time," he muttered, handing Matt his notes back. "We'll get on this right away."

* * *

Scott sighed as he turned to look at Lynne Brooks, who was standing nervously in the doorway behind him. "Well, other than being a complete mess, I don't see anything dangerous or threatening in here," he muttered as he looked around the woman's second grade classroom, appearing as though a tornado had ripped through it. "Are you sure nothing was taken?"

Lynne shook her head slightly as she slowly walked through the overturned desks and over scattered piles of loose paper to join him. "Not that I can tell," she told him quietly. "There's nothing of real monetary value in here that someone would want to take. I keep my purse with me, my phone..."

The officer swept his gaze over the room again, noticing a trail of glass by the shattered window. He had seen the door had been forced open when he had first arrived at the room after Lynne had called him, and whoever had broken in must have used the window for a quick getaway. For a moment, he had to wonder if this act and the incident of the rock flying through her window were connected. "Well, unless I find out information to say otherwise, it seems like this is just some sort of... I don't wanna say prank, but you know what I mean," Scott said as he crossed his arms. "Nothing was taken, and it doesn't appear that whoever did this wanted to hurt anyone. But, that being said, I still want you to be careful and keep an eye out for anything suspicious. Okay?"

"Yeah, of course," Lynne replied. "Anything I can do to help. I just don't know who would have done something like this. I don't think it was one of the kids..."

Scott gave her a small yet somber smile as he pulled the petite woman into a hug. Ever since he and Phil had been children, Lynne had been a second maternal figure to him. She had a kind heart, and he had no idea who would want to target her. However, what he did know was they would regret ever doing so.

* * *

Layla found an empty spot in the parking lot as close to the front as she could, locking up her car before running through the automatic doors of the hospital. She slowed her pace once she entered the waiting room, and she looked around anxiously for the familiar face who had called her. She finally spotted him sitting in a chair in the corner, his legs stretched out in front of him as he read an out-of-date magazine with disinterest.

"Nick!"

At the sound of her anxious tone, Nick raised his gaze from the video game review, tossing the magazine back down on the pile in front of him as he got to his feet when the dispatcher stopped in front of him. "Hey, Lay," he muttered, wrapping his arms around her when she hugged him tightly.

A moment passed before Layla pulled away, taking a deep breath as she met his gaze. "What... what happened?" she asked, a thin line of tears brimming in her eyes.

Nick sighed as he ran a hand through his bleach blond hair nervously. "We... responded to an emergency at one of the jewelry stores downtown," he explained quietly, hesitating on his words slightly. "There were two gunman holding the place up. Before we could show our badges, they fired on us. One of them... hit Cody. I arrested one, but the other... Well, I had no choice but to fire in self defense."

Layla's breath caught once Nick was through, and she closed her eyes for a moment in attempt to keep her tears from escaping. "How is he?" she finally wondered in nearly a whisper.

"He just got out of surgery a little bit ago," Nick said, a small smile on his face. "Fortunately, the bullet only hit his arm. But it was still painful, of course. It'll be a scar he'll enjoy talking about, I'm sure."

The Englishwoman opened her eyes at the sound of the officer's quiet chuckle, and she couldn't stop a smile of relief from appearing on her own face. "Good. I'm glad he'll be okay," she replied, blinking a few times to force her tears back. "When you called..."

Nick reached forward and set his hand securely on her shoulder, forcing the dispatcher to look at him again. "Go see him, Lay," he told her quietly. "I'm sure he'd be glad to see you."

Layla looked back at him for a minute longer before she nodded. Sighing heavily, she turned and crossed the lobby until she reached the nurse's station, finding it difficult to return the friendly smile she was given.

"May I help you?"

"Yes, I was wondering which room Cody Runnels was in," Layla said, leaning forward on the high counter.

"Just one second, ma'am." The nurse's friendly demeanor was unusually annoying to Layla as she turned to her computer to check the hospital's records. "Friend? Family?"

"Girlfriend," Layla clarified.

"Okay, just a moment, please." The nurse continued to type on her computer, looking at the screen closely. "Ah, yes. Runnels. He was moved out of surgery a little bit ago and is now in room 36B. Just go right through that door and head right."

"Thank you." This time, Layla was able to return the smile a bit easier before she left the counter, pushing open the door that led to the rooms behind the desk. She slowly walked down the hallway, her eyes scanning over the numbers as she passed them until she slowed to a stop in front of the room the nurse had mentioned. The door was open a bit, and she sighed with relief when she saw Cody was sitting up on the bed with his left arm in a sling, leaning back against the pillows as he ate what appeared to be some kind of soup out of a bowl while he watched the television hanging high on the wall in front of him. She knocked on the door quietly and took a couple steps into the room, a smile appearing on her face when her boyfriend looked in her direction.

"Hey, Cody."

Cody returned the look as he set the bowl on the small tray next to the bed. "Hey," he said. "I see Nick told you about what happened."

"Of course he did." Layla's smile lingered as she crossed the room and slowly sat down on the bed next to him, resting her manicured hand on his uninjured arm. "And I'm glad he did too. You have no idea how scared I was when I heard..."

"I'm fine, Lay," Cody told her, wrapping his hand around hers. Then, his eyes narrowed slightly as he met his girlfriend's gaze. "Shouldn't you be at work?"

Layla chuckled quietly. "I thought this was more important," she muttered. "Darren understood completely."

Cody smiled slightly. "I'm not gonna say I'm disappointed he did," he replied, leaning forward and meeting his girlfriend's lips in a soft, loving kiss.

A moment passed before Layla pulled away a little, still saying close to Cody. But then, she noticed a plastic bag sitting on the windowsill. "What's that?" she asked curiously, wondering who had visited him before she had.

"Hmm?" Cody followed her gaze curiously. "Oh, that's just something from the jewelry store that the owner dropped off." He smirked. "I guess he felt sorry for me."

Layla's smile broadened as she brushed her fingers through his dark hair, looking at the sling on his left arm nervously. "Well, I'm just glad that you're all right," she said with a quiet sigh.

Cody turned back to her, his eyes gleaming quietly. "I will be," he confirmed. "Just sore for a while." He then raised his injured arm a bit for emphasis, winking at her. "Makes me look a bit more heroic, though, don't you think?"

"Don't even joke, Cody!" Layla lightly smacked his right shoulder, but she couldn't suppress a hint of a laugh. "That could have been serious."

"I know." Cody's laughter soon died off, however, and he sighed as he wound his arm around her waist and pulled his girlfriend a little closer to him. "But it wasn't. I'm fine, I promise."

Layla looked at him for a long moment before she nodded, resting her head on his uninjured shoulder. Cody placed his head against hers, neither one of them saying a word as they blankly watched the television screen. "When can you leave?" she finally asked quietly.

"The doctors said they just want to make sure everything is going well after the surgery," Cody answered. "So, if everything goes according to plan, I'd guess in a couple of hours. How about you? You heading back to work?"

"Mmm, no, I have the rest of the day off," Layla told him with a smile as she looked up at him. "Barbie's taking my shift."

Cody smirked before he leaned down and met her lips in another kiss. "That's exactly what I wanted to hear."

**Author's Note**: So, Matt's getting thrown into police work early, Phil found an old friend, and Cody's okay. There were a couple of minor clues in here, but don't worry. There will be more as we go along! Thanks for reading! Your reviews are much appreciated. Thank you!


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing associated with the WWE. Just any OCs!

**Summary**: AU. "Never take anything for granted. For everything can be taken away in a heartbeat." When a brutal attack causes Phil Brooks to lose his memory, he struggles to not only piece his life back together and regain what was lost, but also to discover who still wants him dead.

**Author's Note**: Thanks for the reviews, guys! I really appreciate them! So, any luck finding any small clues yet? I will say that nothing too major has been presented yet, but there have been a few small ones. If you spot any, feel free to leave them in your reviews, and you can check them as we continue. One more note. Since "Equilibrium" is more or less an entirely new universe for these characters, some other stories may pop up and provide more details on certain people, couples, or events in this unfolding story. Along with this chapter, I'm also posting a oneshot that focuses a bit more on the story of Daniel Bryan and AJ Lee. They're more of a minor couple in this story, but this one will give a little more insight into how they meet as well as how their individual characters fit into this universe. So, if you would like, feel free to swing by and check out the oneshot I'm also posting, "Once Upon a Vegetarian Deli." But anyway, that's all the news on my end. Without any further ado, here's the next chapter! Enjoy and happy hunting! :)

_Chapter 7_

Phil sighed heavily as he sank down onto the couch in the living room of his one bedroom apartment. He lifted his thin glasses and rubbed his tired eyes, knowing he couldn't be gladder that the day was finally over. His new rookie had done well, he had gotten a new lead on the license plate that potentially could have been the one he was looking for, and he had reconnected with an old friend, but he was absolutely exhausted. After learning that Cody had been sent to the hospital after an armed robbery, but was thankfully now at home with Layla, and that his mother's classroom had been wrecked, though Scott had reported that nothing had been stolen, he was looking forward to just relaxing.

He laid back against the pillow and stretched out, closing his eyes for only a minute before his cell phone began to ring. Cracking one eye open, Phil reached out to the small table in front of the couch where he kept his three pictures and the updated license plate and grabbed his phone, squinting slightly in the bright light before answering the call when he saw his younger sister's name flashing on the screen.

"Hello?"

_"Don't you check your phone anymore?" _Cheline asked with slight irritation.

Phil's eyes narrowed a little, sighing quietly when he remembered that she had sent him a text before he had taken Matt out on patrol. "It's been a long day, Chel," he answered with a slight laugh. "What was the text about?"

There was a long moment of silence on the other end, and Phil slowly sat up. "Chel?" he pressed, a tad concerned by her lack of answer.

His sister sighed heavily. _"Michael's in town," _she said hesitantly.

Phil's gaze darkened as he leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. "What does he want now?" he wondered bitterly. "More money?"

_"He just wants to meet with everyone, Phil," _Cheline replied. _"Me, Mom, Parker, Natalie. You."_

"Really?" Phil chuckled, though the sound held a cynical note. "Because last time I checked, Chel, Michael split after turning his back on this family and taking a considerable amount of money from both Dad and I."

_"So is it a crime to want to try and reconnect with everyone?" _Cheline pressed. _"Come on, Phil, this might be a good thing."_

Phil sighed as he stood from the couch and began to pace his small living room. "Yeah, right," he muttered. "Last time he even called any of us was when he asked Mom if she could help him out of a tight financial spot. Other than that, we haven't heard a word from him or seen him at all. If he really cared about the family, Chel, he would at least call to check in on us every once in a while."

Cheline hesitated for a minute, sensing the hostility Phil still felt toward the older man. _"Maybe... maybe he's changed, Phil," _she suggested feebly, even though she knew that was a long shot. _"Maybe things are different now."_

"I doubt that." Phil momentarily stopped pacing. "I haven't talked to the guy in like ten years, give or take. We couldn't even get a hold of him for Dad's funeral a couple months ago. Hell, that's probably why he's here! He probably wants to see if he can worm his way into getting some of Dad's life insurance policy. I wouldn't put it past him."

_"I don't know, Phil," _Cheline said. _"Everyone deserves a chance. Even Michael. You know that."_

Phil laughed hollowly. "I'll tell you what, Chel," he replied. "I'll give him a chance when he proves to me that he deserves one. After walking out on the family and stealing money from us, I can't say that I exactly trust him. So, you guys can go meet with him if you want, try to sort things out, whatever. I want no part of it."

There was another long moment of silence, and Phil silently berated himself when he realized that he had snapped at his sister without meaning to. "I'm sorry, Chel."

_"It's okay," _Cheline muttered. _"I just wish you would give Michael a chance. At least see him."_

Phil carefully considered his answer. "Only when he's earned it," he told her quietly. "For now, I don't wanna see him."

_"Fine." _Cheline paused for a moment. _"I hear Parker getting restless. I'll talk to you later, Phil. Have a good night."_

"Yeah, you too, Chel." Phil ended the call on his phone and set it back down on the table on top of the partial license plate number with a bit more force than he intended before lying back down and stretching out on the couch again. He stared blankly at the wall in front of him for a long moment before sighing heavily and closing his eyes, unable to focus completely on any of the thoughts that were now on his mind.

Though Michael was his brother by blood, he had been anything but that to him growing up. Now that he looked back on it, Phil felt as though he had never really known him at all. He clearly remembered the stress his parents had been under when Michael stole a substantial amount of money from their dad's banking account, as well as some from his own, and how he had to work a couple odd jobs after he graduated high school to help support the family. Ever since that day, Phil knew it was something he couldn't quite get over, something Michael would never understand. He hadn't had to watch their parents worry and attempt to just make it through a day at a time. And now that this man was apparently back in his life, he had brought with him a slew of memories that he had struggled to forget.

Phil sighed as he shifted the pillow beneath his head to a more comfortable position, trying to relax a little more. What Michael was doing in Chicago, he had no idea. But it would have been so much easier on him if he wasn't. It was something he didn't want to deal with. And he wouldn't, that much he knew. He refused to get involved with that part of his past.

The officer was unsure how long he simply lay on the couch with his eyes closed, plagued with memories of his brother when they had both been much younger that he barely seemed to remember. However, it wasn't too much longer before his exhaustion finally caught up with him, and Phil fell into a light, uneasy sleep.

* * *

"You look awful, man."

Phil sighed as he slipped off the long-sleeved black shirt of his uniform and stuffed it in his locker before he glanced back at Scott. "I'm fine," he muttered, grabbing some paper plates he had brought into work that day before shutting the door. "Just got a tad more sleep than I'm accustomed to, that's all."

Scott grabbed some styrofoam cups and plastic silverware out of his own locker before shutting and locking it. "No, I meant that you look like something's bothering you," he clarified, turning to look at his best friend. "And don't tell me that there isn't. You'd just be wasting your breath if you did."

The two officers began walking down the hall in the direction of the lobby while Phil brushed a small black string off his white t-shirt with annoyance. "Well, nothing's really _wrong_," he told him, though the sarcasm in his tone was difficult to miss. "Except for the fact that Michael is in town and apparently wants to meet up with everyone."

"_What_?" Scott stopped, making the other man do the same as he turned to look back at him. "Michael. Like the guy that stole from you and your dad and ditched the family?"

Phil gave him a wry smile. "The one and only," he confirmed.

Scott shook his head slightly in disbelief. "What the hell is _he _doing here?" he wondered, anger in his tone. "I figured that after what he did, he wouldn't want to show his face to you guys again. I mean, I remember that shouting match you had with him before he left. You spent the night at my place after, and we played video games until morning. My mom almost killed us."

The other officer chuckled quietly at the memory. "That part of it was fun," he said. "But no, Chel said last night that he wants to meet up with everyone and just talk about things. I'm doubting it. He wouldn't be here unless he wanted something."

"I agree," Scott replied quietly as they continued walking. "I mean, we hardly saw your brother when we were growing up, and once he got into high school, he was always off partying with his friends. I can honestly say the only thing I remember about Michael was when he picked us up from school one time because no one else could and we missed the bus, and his car smelled like cigarettes and alcohol."

Phil rolled his eyes but said nothing. Scott sighed. "So, are you going to meet up with him?" he asked.

His best friend's answer was quick and to the point. "No."

Scott nodded slightly, for it was the answer he was expecting. "I don't blame you, man," he muttered while they crossed the lobby. "Not after what he did."

Phil once again said nothing as he pushed open the back door and stepped outside onto the lawn behind the police station, holding it open for Scott as he came out after him. "Let's just forget about Michael for now," he said, a small smile forming on his face as he looked around at the few people who were already outside. "I want to enjoy the cookout."

A strong feeling of anticipation had seemed to prevail throughout the station since everyone had shown up for work that morning. The annual police force cookout was something that was always highly looked forward to every year, for it gave the entire staff a chance to relax together and have some fun. It had been a tradition started seven years before when Darren had become the Chief of Police after the former one had to step down due to an unforeseen injury, and they always viewed it as an opportunity to bring everyone closer together.

Darren himself was standing on the left side of the yard, pouring charcoal onto the grill. Cody and Layla were setting up a table across from him, the former having a bit of difficulty with one arm in a sling, before placing chip bags and other variety of snacks on it while Barbara, Matt, and Trent Barreta filled a large cooler with a couple bags of ice before putting cans of soda and water bottles inside to keep cold.

"Looks like you'll be having a good spread, Darren," Phil commented with a smirk as he approached the Chief with Scott, eyeing the individually bagged packages of meat that were all sitting on the table next to the grill he was preparing.

Darren glanced over his shoulder at the officer, chuckling quietly. "Don' worry, I have fish here for you," he told him, closing the bag of coal and setting it on the grass beside him.

Phil gave him an exaggerated grin. "My, how thoughtful you are," he muttered, patting him on the arm. "It's sweet of you to do that for me, Darren."

"Damn you and your new eating habits." Darren smirked when he saw the look of mock horror that appeared on Phil's face. He hardly missed a chance to poke fun at one of his most trusted officers since he had recently decided the only meat he was going to eat was fish. "You certainly don' make this easy on me."

"Well, you know me, Darren. I love making things difficult," Phil replied, a glint in his eye.

"As you've made so painfully clear." The Chief took all the meat he would be grilling, ranging from hamburger to hot dogs, out of their bags before unpacking another filled with buns, ketchup, mustard, relish, onions, cheese, and a pickle jar. "Would you two mind setting up the games before everyone else starts getting here while I ge' this started?"

"Sure, no problem!" Scott confirmed as he and Phil began to walk toward the far end of the yard where a pile of outdoor games sat, waiting to be played. The latter slowed his pace slightly when they drew nearer to Cody and Layla, who were finishing setting up the snack table, glancing at the other officer's left arm supported by the sling.

"How's your arm doing?" Phil wondered.

Cody turned to face him. "It'll be all right," he said. "Just a bit sore every once in a while. I have the next few days off, but I didn't want to miss this."

Phil nodded before a slight smirk appeared on his face. "Gonna have an impressive scar?"

Layla shook her head in disbelief as Cody chuckled. "What is with you guys and scars?" she asked. "I honestly don't get it."

Cody winked at her. "It's a man thing, Lay," he answered. "Plus we know women find them sexy." His girlfriend simply rolled her eyes.

More people began to arrive as Phil and Scott set up games such as the beanbag toss and horseshoes while Darren started on the grilling, both officers and their families alike. Denise Colton arrived with seven-year-old Briar shortly after Nick and Charity Nemeth did, and the little girl immediately started a game of horseshoes against her older brother with Phil on her team to help her while her mother got into a conversation with the Chief.

Nick approached the cooler while his wife started talking to Layla, and he grabbed a water bottle just as he felt someone join him. He glanced up to see his partner standing next to him, and he smiled as he straightened up. "Glad to see the injury isn't too serious," he said, nodding to his left arm as he opened the bottle and took a sip.

Cody smiled. "I'll be fine," he assured him. "Darren said I'll probably be back into work by Wednesday or Thursday, whenever he sees fit."

"Oh, no, what am I gonna do without you?" Nick muttered jokingly. "Patrolling on my own sounds rather boring."

"I think you'll be fine," Cody told him with a quiet chuckle. Then, he glanced at where Layla and Charity were talking before nodding down the snack table away from them.

Nick's eyes narrowed slightly with confusion as he followed his partner until they came to a stop on the other side of the table. "What's up, man?" he wondered.

Cody glanced once more at his girlfriend before meeting the other man's curious gaze. "You know how the owner of that jewelry store was talking to me for a short time before the ambulance got there?" he asked quietly, continuing only when Nick nodded. "Well, he was asking me which ring I had been looking into buying. After I got out of surgery, he stopped by my room and offered to give it to me for a discounted price."

The other officer's eyes brightened up. "Hey, that's great news!" he said. "So you got the ring for Lay after all. I'm happy for ya, man! He must have felt bad that you were hurt trying to stop the guys who were attempting to rob his store."

"Yeah, must have," Cody agreed with another quiet laugh. "But yes, what's important is that I got the ring. Now it's just a matter of figuring out how to actually give it to her."

Nick grinned. "Ah, but that's the fun part!" he replied. "Do you have any ideas about how you might do it yet?"

Cody smirked. "Absolutely none."

"Well, you've got time to figure it out," Nick told him, draping his arm over his shoulders. "No rush. Just make it something really special that you'll both remember. That's all that matters."

His partner nodded slightly, glancing over at Layla as she laughed with Charity before turning back to Nick. "What... what did you do?" Cody wondered.

Nick smiled. "Me? Well, I've gotta admit it wasn't very traditional," he explained. "See, we were never the fancy dinner type, so I knew that if I did something like that, she would be really suspicious. I really wanted to surprise her, you know? I proposed to her after she graduated from art school. We'd already had an apartment together for a couple years, and we were thinking of getting a few things to add to the decor to celebrate. One thing she always wanted was this giant fish tank for different fish since watching them somehow really fueled her creativity. Her dad had one, and she would often sketch or paint over at his place while I was on duty.

"So, we had been saving up to get a tank like the one he had, and the day after the graduation ceremony, we finally picked one up from the pet store, along with some pebbles to put on the bottom, some fake plants, I think a little castle, and other things like that to decorate it. We'd be getting the fish the next day.

"But the one thing I picked out for it was this little treasure chest that would open and close and release bubbles and what not. I had actually gotten the ring a month or so before but was just waiting for the opportune moment. So, we got the tank set up that night, and the next day, we went back to the pet store and picked out a few fish to start with. While she was preparing the water for them, I stuck the ring in the chest and put it in the tank. We filled it with water and put the fish inside, and after watching them for a while, she noticed the ring in the chest. She thought someone could have possibly lost it and took it out. She was about to hand it to me, but I was already on one knee and asking her to marry me before she quite realized what was going on. She was surprised, all right."

Cody laughed, his smile lingering as his partner finished his story. "Well, Lay's got her puppy, so I don't think getting a fish tank is really gonna work out here," he muttered. "Not that I think she'd really be interested in getting a fish anyway."

Nick smiled. "Well, you know Layla better than anyone," he said. "I'm sure you'll think of something special for her."

The other man nodded, once again looking over at Layla as she and Charity continued talking. He had had a few girlfriends in the past, but the Englishwoman had been the first one he had ever felt this strongly for. Like Nick, he had never really considered himself the marrying type, at least he hadn't until he had met Layla. She was different somehow, and Cody knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. The only thing he had left to figure out, though, was how to ask her to be his wife.

"I hope so, Nick," he muttered as Layla turned to look at him. "I hope so."

Layla smiled at her boyfriend where he was standing with his partner before she turned back to Charity. "So, you and Nick must be so excited," she said, her eyes moving down to the other woman's larger stomach. "Only a couple weeks to go, huh?"

Charity returned the look as she took a sip of the water the other woman had grabbed out of the cooler for her. "Yeah, not too much longer now," she confirmed, setting her hand lightly on her stomach. "The doctor said it could be anytime now, actually. A few days, a couple weeks."

"Oh, wow! I didn't realize you were quite that close. You must be so thrilled!" Layla replied. "Are you guys ready?"

"As ready as we'll ever be," Charity told her, her smile lingering as she glanced over at Nick. "Whenever these guys are ready, we'll have to be too. No compromises there."

Layla took a sip of her own water. Charity had texted her the day before to tell her about the results of her last ultrasound since she had asked about it, knowing that they didn't just have one child on the way. "So you don't know whether they're boys or girls yet?" she asked.

Charity shook her head. "No, we'd rather be surprised," she answered. "For right now, the room has been painted neutral colors. I will say Nick was sure surprised, as I was, that we're having twins!"

"I can imagine!" Layla chuckled, knowing how shocking that news must have been for the soon-to-be parents. "That seems to be the more fun way to go, though, that's for sure. I think if I were to ever have a child, I wouldn't want to know either."

A moment of silence passed between the two women before Charity smiled again. "So, how are you and Cody?" she wondered. "You guys recently got a place together, didn't you?"

"Yes, we did," Layla said. "And that's going great. Mackenzie likes him, at least." A small smile appeared on her face as she thought of her one-year-old black labrador puppy, who she had brought along with her when she and Cody moved into their new house.

"Well I'm glad she does. I know how much you love her," Charity replied, wincing slightly as she placed her hand on her stomach again. A moment passed before she took a deep breath and smiled at the other woman.

"Are you all right?" Layla asked.

"Yeah, one of them is just kicking," Charity answered with a slight shake of her head. "Been doing that a lot lately. But anyway, what about you? Do you think you and Cody will ever tie the knot?"

Layla chuckled quietly. "I don't know," she muttered. "I mean, Cody's a great guy. I love him to death. It's just... I'm not sure if he really seems the type to want to get married, at least not now. But maybe one day. Plus I'm not sure if _I'm_ ready for something like that. It's such a big step."

Charity nodded as she turned her gaze to her husband and Cody again. "It is," she agreed. "But it's not quite so scary when you've found the right person."

The Englishwoman followed her gaze, her smile returning as she watched Cody and Nick both laugh at whatever they were talking about. Her own wedding was something she had often dreamt about as a little girl, but after she had moved to the States to attend college when her father, who had been a police officer, was killed in the line of duty, it was something she had pushed to the back of her mind. Marriage had been something she really hadn't considered being for her, for she was much more concerned with graduating toward the top of her class and finding a stable occupation in the same field as her father to keep her feet on the ground.

But that was before she met Cody. She knew she would always remember when she had first seen him when she was still being trained by Darren on how to handle the emergency calls that came in. He had walked into the police station, having just finished his rookie training, to respond to his first case with Nick as his partner. The soft smile he had given her while she filled them in on what the disturbance was had imprinted itself on her memory, and from that point on, she had spent a lot of time getting to know him better. He would sometimes visit her during his break before or after he went to eat with Nick, Phil, and Scott and walk her to her car when their shifts were over. They had gone on quite a few casual dates before he had very shyly asked her if she would be his girlfriend, and she had agreed without hesitation.

However, even after they had bought their first house together after the four years they had dated, marriage was something that Layla had never really thought about. Though, she knew that if the time came where she should decide to dedicate her life to spend with someone else, it would be Cody.

"Maybe one day," she repeated quietly, smiling once again at the other woman.

Charity returned the look, but they were both soon distracted by an excited yell from the games area. They turned in time to see little Briar jumping happily up and down where the horseshoes posts had been set up.

"We won, we won!" the seven-year-old exclaimed, jumping a couple more times before wrapping her small arms tightly around Phil's neck, who had been crouching next to her to help her play against her brother. Denise Colton chuckled quietly from where she stood next to Darren as he continued to cook the food once she realized that the yell hadn't meant that there was something wrong with her daughter.

Phil wrapped one arm around Briar as he threw his other one out to keep his balance, laughing a little as he patted her back. "Yes, we did," he agreed with a broad smile, hugging the girl he had known since she had been an infant.

Briar smiled up at him with excitement, but then they both looked up as Scott walked over, a mock scowl on his face. "Hey, that's so not fair, you little brat," he muttered teasingly, reaching out and pulling his adopted sister away from his best friend. She screamed before laughing when he started to tickle her. "Mommy, Phil, help!"

"Sco', stop torturing the poor girl, why don' you?" Darren wondered, smirking as he watched the two siblings for a moment before flipping over a couple more burgers on the grill.

To his surprise, Scott momentarily stopped tickling Briar. "But it's funny, Chief!" he protested with a smile. "Besides, she deserves it!"

Denise shook her head slightly as Darren shrugged. "Well, carry on then," he muttered. His smirk broadened once Briar began to laugh again.

Phil laughed as he watched his best friend resume his merciless tickling for a moment before he looked up when two more people left the police station and stepped into the backyard. A broad smile appeared on his face when he saw his mother and younger sister, the latter holding a carrier tightly in her hand. He got to his feet and approached them, immediately getting a warm embrace from the petite woman.

"Sorry we're a little late, Phil," Lynne Brooks said, smiling up at her son when she pulled away. "My teacher's meeting ran over today."

"That's fine, Mom," Phil replied, quickly hugging Cheline and feeling that she was a little stiff in returning it. "As long as you guys are here, that's all that matters."

Lynne's smile lingered as she reached out and picked a couple pieces of fuzz off Phil's t-shirt. "When Scott checked out my classroom yesterday after I found it in a complete mess, he talked to the principal and security staff to see if another camera could be installed closer to it," she explained quietly. "They were looking more into that today, so I had to stick around for that too, of course."

"Good, I'm glad to hear that they're getting on that." Scott smiled as he approached them as well, Briar close in tow. "Hopefully that'll help things out somewhat."

"Yes, I'm sure it will, Scott," Lynne told him, giving both siblings a quick hug before the younger went up to the carrier that Cheline was holding to look at the sleeping baby inside. "Thanks so much for all your help yesterday."

Scott's smile broadened. "Anytime, Lynne."

Briar grinned as she looked up at Cheline, pulling on her sleeve. "Parker's waking up!" she announced.

Cheline smiled at the girl before turning her attention to her son, seeing his brilliant blue eyes were slowly starting to open as he rubbed them with a tiny hand. "Why, yes he is," she said, gently setting the carrier down before opening the diaper bag that Lynne was carrying on her shoulder. "He might be hungry. We'll see."

Phil watched his younger sister carefully as she pulled out a bottle, knowing that the slight tension still felt between them must have been lingering from the conversation they had the night before about their older brother being in town. Cheline then proceeded to take her slightly fussing son out of his carrier, but before he could say anything to her, everyone's attention was switched to the grill.

"Food is ready!" Darren announced, grabbing a plate to begin putting the cooked meat on. "Now, I can always grill some more depending on wha' people would like, so please, take as much as you wan'."

"I'll give you a hand, Chief," Matt offered, hurrying over.

Darren smiled at the young rookie. "Thank you, Matthew," he said, handing him the plate. "Um, Tren', would you mind helping ou' with setting up the rest of the tables?"

"Sure thing, Sir."

Phil lingered near the condiment table, watching as Cheline sat at one of the tables with her food before setting Parker on her lap and giving him his bottle. Briar sat close to her with her own plate, watching the baby intently, while Barbara took her place across from them and struck up a conversation with his sister. Matt and Trent sat across from each other, laughing about something, while Lynne and Denise sat close together near Cheline and Briar, Scott across from them. Nick and Cody sat with Layla and Charity at the next table, all talking excitedly about the children soon on the way.

"And here is your specialty plate, Phil."

The officer glanced away from the group when he heard the English accent, noticing Darren was smiling at him as he held up a plate with the white fish and a couple packets of lemon juice on it he had gotten especially for him. "Thanks," Phil muttered with a small smile of his own as he took it. "I appreciate it."

"Of course. I wanted you to ea' more than just chips and other snacks," Darren replied with a quiet chuckle. "Tha' wouldn' have been good."

"No, it wouldn't have," Phil agreed before Darren fixed a plate for himself and walked toward the tables Matt and Trent had set up. He watched as the Chief set his hand lightly on Lynne's shoulder, smiling as he sat next to her and Denise and began talking to her. He heard him say something about how they were continuing to look into the incident of the rock that had smashed her living room window before he crossed the yard to the cooler and grabbed a bottle of water for himself.

However, Phil had only set his plate and drink on the table next to Scott and was about to sit down before two young, excited voices reached his ears.

"Phil! Phil!"

A smile appeared on Phil's face as he looked back toward the station, watching as two small, identical twin girls ran across the yard toward where the tables were set up. He walked forward to meet them, catching the slightly somber smile that was on Darren's face as he watched him, before crouching down just as they reached him.

"Hey, it's good to see you girls," he told them quietly, holding them close as they both hugged him tightly. "Really good."

"We missed you!"

Phil chuckled quietly, kissing each of their heads before letting them go. He then glanced up as someone else approached, and his smile lingered as he rose to his feet. "Hey, Ash. Good to see you too," he said, pulling the girls' brother, an older boy with the same blond hair, into a one-armed hug.

Ash smiled up at the officer when he pulled away. "Darren called Mom yesterday and said that we were still invited to the cookout," he told him.

"Of course you guys are," Phil confirmed. "I'm glad that you were all able to make it."

"I am too, Phil. And we would have been here sooner, but traffic is terrible right now."

Phil looked up again at the new voice, and his smile faltered slightly as Jessica Irvine, the wife of his former mentor, slowly walked over to join them. "Hey, Jess," he greeted.

Jessica smiled before she pulled the officer into an embrace, staying close for a moment before stepping back. "It's good to see you," she replied, a thin line of tears in her eyes. "You've done so much for us these past six years."

"Well, it's the least I could do since..." Phil's sentence trailed off, however, and Jessica gave him another smile as she reached out and set her hand briefly on his shoulder in a reassuring manner just as Darren walked over, the three kids greeting him with excitement.

Phil's smile slowly waned as he watched Jessica hug the Chief, sighing quietly as he walked back to his spot at the table next to his best friend. Ever since Chris had died, he had made it a point to ensure his wife and children had everything they needed. He had initially been driven by his guilt over what had happened since he knew it was his own fault, but he had developed a close relationship with the kids and was glad he could be a positive influence for them since Chris was no longer there to do so.

"Good to see that Chris' family still comes to this," Scott said to him when Phil sat down, a smile on his face as he watched Jessica prepare plates for herself and her three children.

The other officer nodded as he opened one of the packets of lemon juice but otherwise began to eat in silence.

**Author's Note**: So, there's that! A bit more of a lighthearted chapter, but also an important one. If anything, just a couple details in here that shouldn't be so quickly looked over. But anyway, hope you liked it! Thanks for reading! Your reviews are much appreciated. And again, if you wanna swing by and check out the Daniel Bryan/AJ story, "Once Upon a Vegetarian Deli," feel free to do so! See ya guys next week!


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing associated with the WWE. Just any OCs!

**Summary**: AU. "Never take anything for granted. For everything can be taken away in a heartbeat." When a brutal attack causes Phil Brooks to lose his memory, he struggles to not only piece his life back together and regain what was lost, but also to discover who still wants him dead.

**Author's Note**: Thanks for the reviews, guys! I'm glad you're enjoying this story! Well, we are steadily building to what happens to Phil in chapter one, and the next couple chapters will contain clues to kinda lead us in that direction. So, definitely keep an eye open! I have to say I've been really inspired for this by watching Punk's blu-ray this weekend (If you haven't seen it, I *highly* recommend it!), so we'll see where this takes us! Enjoy and happy hunting! :)

_Chapter 8_

"So, how are Jessica and the kids?"

Phil glanced at his best friend sitting on the floor next to him before turning his attention to the half-completed house of cards they were building on a circular table in the corner of his living room. They had left the police station after the cookout had ended hours ago, deciding to stay up late and try to complete a task they had only tried once before when they had been teenagers. "They're doing all right," he answered, setting the next card carefully in place. "The girls have joined a dance class and have their first little recital coming up next month, and Ash has a baseball game in a couple weeks. I told them I'd go if I could."

Scott smiled as he started on the next layer of cards. "That's good, I'm glad to hear it," he said. "It's good to see those kids are so happy. These past six years without a father must have been hard for them."

The other officer simply nodded as he rubbed his tired eyes under his thin glasses. He was still dealing with the recent loss of his own father, who had passed away a couple months before. Though he had had his issues with him during his high school years due to the alcoholism, he was just relieved that it was something the man had been able to overcome and that they had been on good terms before they didn't have the chance to be. But to lose a father at the young age that Chris' children were at was a different matter entirely, and he had the suspicion that it was one of the reasons that he was kind of trying to fill that void for them.

Seeming to guess his best friend's thoughts, Scott worried his bottom lip between his teeth. "Sorry, man, I didn't mean..."

"It's fine," Phil muttered, giving him a small smile as he added a couple more cards to the ones that Scott had just set in place.

Scott sighed quietly, knowing that the sudden death of his father had been hard on Phil, more so than the other man would care to admit. But before he could say anything, the landline phone in the apartment began to ring.

Narrowing his eyes slightly in confusion, Phil slowly got to his feet and walked the couple steps that separated them from the phone, looking at the flashing screen. It simply said "cellular call," but his eyes widened slightly when he saw the number beneath it. It was a number he thought he recognized, though he knew he had to be wrong since it was one he hadn't seen in years.

"Who is it?" Scott wondered, noticing the shocked look on the other man's face.

Phil shook his head slightly as he quickly picked up the phone after the third ring and answered the call, not wanting to lose it. "Hello?"

The only answer he received was silence.

* * *

Bryan Danielson hummed quietly along with the radio as he finished wiping up the last of the few tables in the family-owned deli he had taken over for his father which, in the few years he had owned it, had become a vegetarian place. He picked up the damp rag and spray bottle, moving a little to the catchy beat as he walked to the back room to put the cleaning supplies away. The deli had been busy that day, much different than the almost no service he had gotten when he had first opened it, and though he was tired, it had been worth it. His father had often suggested that he hire a helping hand, but Bryan hadn't taken it too seriously, at least not yet. His father, as well as his grandfather before him, had been able to run the place by themselves, and he wanted to prove he could do it too.

Though if he continued to get as much service as he had that day, a helping hand may not have been the worst idea. After all, the growing amount of customers only meant that the deli was successful, and he could always hire a friend, at least someone he trusted, to help him run it. But, it was finally Saturday, and business matters were something that Bryan didn't want to think about for the time being as he walked back out into the main part of the store. The deli was closed on Sundays and he didn't teach his self-defense classes on the weekends, and that night was his night to unwind and relax with his friends. It was something he always looked forward to.

Still humming, Bryan made his way over to the far side of the room to where the radio was, turning it off as he prepared to close down the deli. He looked up at the wall behind it, his smile broadening as his gaze moved over all the comic book covers that had been designed by his girlfriend, April "AJ" Mendez. To show his gratitude to her for helping to get the place off the ground, he always hung up the newest issue of her witch comic series on the wall to display to the public. He always got one of the first issues when they were published since he enjoyed reading them, and this was his way of helping to get the word out about her work.

Bryan did a final sweep of the deli, checking that everything that needed to be locked up was indeed locked and that everything was clean for when he returned on Monday. Once he was satisfied, he turned off the lights and stepped out into the mild summer night. He pulled a set of keys out of his jeans' pocket and locked up the building before walking the short distance to his car parked right in front of the door. He climbed in behind the wheel and stuck the key in the ignition, but before he started it, he pulled his cell phone out of his other pocket, noticing he had a text message. Squinting slightly in the bright light coming from the screen, a smile appeared on his bearded face when he saw it was from his girlfriend.

_Hope ur day went well! Have fun with the guys tonight :) See u when u get home! –AJ_

Chuckling quietly to himself, Bryan quickly typed up a response.

_Busy day! May think of hiring a helping hand. We'll talk more later. Thanks, babe! See u in a few hours! –Bryan_

Once the message was sent, Bryan tossed his cell phone to the passenger seat before he started the car and pulled out of the parking lot, turning up the radio a bit as he drove in the direction of the bar the group had planned to meet at that night. Since the deli was downtown, it only took him about ten minutes to reach the Fuze and find an empty spot toward the back of the parking lot. Being that it was almost seven on a Saturday night, he wasn't surprised that it was so crowded.

Bryan grabbed his phone and checked it as he stepped out of the car to see if there was any word from the two friends he would be meeting that night, but there wasn't anything. Sighing, he grabbed a light sweatshirt from the backseat and locked up after him before crossing the parking lot to stand in front of the building and wait. He glanced behind him when the door of the bar opened, and he watched as three of the bartenders walked out, all wearing athletic outfits with knee-high Converse and laughing about something. One of them pulled out a pack of Marlboros and lit one before offering it to the other two women with her. One took one of the offered cigarettes and borrowed her coworker's lighter while the other declined, and Bryan smirked slightly when he recognized her.

"Hey, Eve."

Eve Torres glanced over in his direction at the sound of her name, and she smiled slightly in return, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Hey, Bryan," she replied, brushing her brown hair away from her low-cut sports jersey. "Long time no see."

"Yeah," Bryan said with a slight nod. "Still working here, I see."

"Wages are good. Plus tips, of course," Eve told him with a shrug. She hesitated for a moment before crossing her arms. "Seen Phil lately?"

Bryan raised an eyebrow. "Just last weekend," he muttered. "Why, wondering where he's at so you can bother him some more?"

Eve rolled her eyes. "No, Bryan, I'm concerned about him," she explained. "I saw him briefly a couple nights ago, but we really didn't talk. He wasn't looking that great. Now, I know that after Chris–!"

"Look, Eve," Bryan interrupted, slightly annoyed. He knew how the woman had only harassed one of his best friends ever since he had broken up with her. He couldn't place the blame on Phil for the decision, for he knew how much the death of his former mentor had affected him, even if he didn't say it. "Phil's got a lot on his plate. And if you really still cared about him as you claim, you would just leave him be. He's got a lot going on as it is right now without you constantly trying to get a hold of him."

The Latina's eyes flared, but before she could say anything in response, she watched as a red Sedan pulled into a parking spot not too far away from Bryan's car. A moment later, a man with long dark hair tied back behind his head stepped out from behind the wheel, and Bryan smiled as he waved him down.

"Kofi!"

"Hey, man!" The man in question grinned broadly as he hurried over to the bar, wearing a casual t-shirt and shorts with a dark DC sweatshirt tied around his waist. He stopped beside the other man, and they high-fived before giving each other a quick, one-armed hug. "How's it going?"

"Good!" Bryan said, his smile matching the other man's. "Busy. Yourself?"

"Same here," Kofi replied with a slight laugh. "Like today, we had so many divorce and civil lawsuits coming in, it was crazy! I swear, it almost seemed like half a neighborhood all decided to get divorced at the same time. I don't know, man. But this vegetarian place is still working out well for ya, huh?"

Bryan nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, for sure! If anything, even better than it's ever been," he told him. "Really busy these past couple days. I might eventually give in and take my dad's advice to hire a helping hand. Couldn't hurt any."

Kofi chuckled. "Well, that's an improvement!" He had been concerned about his friend's dreams to keep his father's deli running when there had been virtually no business at the start, but at least things seemed to be working out. "So, I just heard from Phil, and–!"

But Kofi stopped when he saw Bryan quickly shake his head, and his eyes narrowed in confusion. But then, he noticed the three bartenders standing near them, still on their break, and he nodded at one in particular. "Eve, didn't know we'd be seeing you tonight."

Eve simply rolled her eyes once more but didn't say anything. The other two women quickly finished their cigarettes before snuffing them beneath their shoes, calling for her to join them as they walked back inside. Eve briefly glanced back at the two men before following them.

"So, I take it she's still bothering Phil, then," Kofi muttered, crossing his arms. "Wish she'd just leave him alone. He broke it off with her for a reason."

"I know, but try telling her that," Bryan replied in annoyance. "But anyway, you said you heard from Phil?"

Kofi smiled. "Yeah, he said to head on in since he'll be here shortly," he said. "Oh, and I guess someone else will be joining us tonight too."

Bryan raised a curious eyebrow. "Oh, yeah?" he asked. "Who?"

"I don't know, man," Kofi answered with a shrug. "Phil didn't say."

"Maybe he's got himself a new girl," Bryan teased, a smirk on his face.

Kofi laughed as the two friends walked inside the building. "Yeah, I highly doubt that one."

Bryan chuckled himself as he and Kofi walked past the bar, noticing Eve was tending to a couple guys who had already had a few drinks in them, as they were led to a table near the back wall by the hostess. They had only picked up the menus and started to glance through them when a familiar, sarcastic voice was heard drawing nearer to them. "Geeze, I told Kofi to save me a seat, not to start eating without me."

Both Bryan and Kofi looked up, identical smiles on their faces as the third member of their group approached the table, dressed in a typical pair of jeans and a Guns N' Roses t-shirt. "Hey, man!" the latter greeted, getting to his feet as Phil grabbed a chair from the empty table next to them and pulled it over. He gave the officer a quick hug before Bryan did the same, and all three men sat down at the table.

"What took you so long then?" Bryan asked jokingly, leaning back in his chair.

Phil chuckled quietly. "My new rookie was on patrol with me again today, and showing him the ropes of everything is taking a while," he answered, casually picking up a menu and starting to look through it. "It's not a big surprise. It's the same with every rookie. It's just that he seems to be... more hesitant to do things for himself. I don't mind that he's checking with me about what he's doing to see if it's right since that's what he's supposed to do, but there are some things he has to find for himself that make him comfortable. I can teach him every little thing I know from being on the force for six years, I can recite all the basic principles I learned from the Academy and every text I've read, and that'll tell him how to be a proper officer according to standards. But it won't teach him how to be a good one. That he has to learn himself, but he doesn't understand that yet."

Kofi grinned. "Yeah, considering that you break some of those standards," he said.

"Only sometimes," Phil conceded with a smirk, causing the other two men to laugh. "And I prefer the term _bending _than breaking. But anyway, this whole thing is a learning process for Matt. Yes, he can ask me all the questions in the world, which will help him with those principles, but it won't help him define himself as an officer. That all comes down to him. I'm trying my best to push him in that direction, but so far, it hasn't been working out too well." He paused for a minute. "That was one of the best things I learned from Chris."

Bryan and Kofi glanced at each other a tad nervously, knowing the conversation was heading in a way that would soon get uncomfortable. "So, I take it you're missing Scott, then?" the former wondered with a slight smirk of his own.

Phil chuckled. "Yeah, a bit," he replied. "He did a lot for himself right off the bat without me really having to do much pushing. It was something I was glad to see. But I can push this kid's buttons a lot more than I could with Scott, which is enjoyable. It gives him a good idea of how this job isn't always easy. But at least I still work with him to an extent. Currently, Darren's got him working on trying to help out my mom."

Kofi's eyes narrowed in concern. "What's wrong with Lynne?" he asked.

Before Phil could answer, Bryan's eyes widened in disbelief as he laughed, his gaze resting on something near the door. "Oh, my God! No way!"

Both Kofi and Phil turned to look over their shoulders to see what had caused the outburst. A moment later, the former's smile mirrored Bryan's while the latter simply smirked. Bryan shook his head slightly as he rose to his feet, waving his arms above his head to flag down the man who had just entered the bar wearing a dark pair of jeans and a nice t-shirt vest.

"Hey, Mike! Over here!" he shouted, having to compete with the music that was playing and the loud chatter around them.

Mike Mizanin, who had been looking around with an almost lost expression, perked up slightly at the sound of the voice. Finally spotting Bryan at the back of the room, a broad smile appeared on his face as he walked through the crowded bar and made his way to the table. He was immediately hugged tightly by Bryan, and he laughed a little as Kofi embraced him as soon as the other man let go.

"It's so great to see you guys!" Mike said, his smile lingering as he grabbed a chair from an empty table and sat down next to Phil.

"No kidding!" Kofi agreed cheerfully. "Shit, it's been what, at least two years? Definitely great to see you again, man!"

"So I take it that the whole going to Los Angeles thing didn't work out?" Bryan added.

Mike shook his head. "No, things with the girl didn't quite work out," he confirmed. "But, that's all right. I hated L.A. anyway. Too hot."

Kofi chuckled, still shaking his head. "Well, looks like you're stuck with us again," he muttered. "What are you up to now?"

"I'm the manager of one of the many Starbucks around here," Mike told him with a roll of his eyes. "Which was robbed Thursday."

"That's how I ran into him again," Phil explained with a slight smile as Bryan and Kofi looked at Mike with concern. "So, I guess it can be looked at as a good thing in that respect."

"For sure," Kofi agreed, though he still looked a bit worried as he turned back to Mike. "So, how are things at the store going?"

Mike shrugged as he started looking through the menu Phil handed him. "A little better," he said. "We're getting some extra security installed, which should help. The police took our surveillance video to look over, though according to my workers, the guys were wearing masks, so I don't know how much good that'll do."

Phil chuckled quietly. "Your faith in my coworkers is really flattering."

"Yeah, well, I've had experiences with law enforcement like this before," Mike told him, leaning back in his seat. "And that didn't turn out so well."

"I admit it's a bit trickier, but don't forget that one of your workers, I think it was Kevin, caught a good chunk of a license plate that belonged to the guys who robbed the place." Phil leaned forward on the table. "It's very beneficial, and may even help out with another incident we're working on."

Bryan watched his two friends for another moment before glancing up when a waitress approached them, and he noticed she was one of the women he had seen when she had been on her smoke break. "Uh, do we need another minute, guys?" he wondered while she set four glasses of ice water down on the table.

"Um..." Phil briefly opened the menu again before shutting it. "I'll take a veggie burger, well done, with a side of fries. Everything on it but onions. And a diet Pepsi, please."

Mike chuckled quietly as the blonde woman started writing down his order in her notepad. "You're still doing that, man?" he asked. "We're at a bar, and you order Pepsi?"

Phil smirked in return as Bryan began ordering a meal similar to his. "But of course," he confirmed. "You know I don't drink."

"... And I'll take a Mike's hard lemonade," Bryan finished, setting his menu on top of Phil's.

"I'll take chicken fettucini alfredo," Kofi said when the waitress turned to him. "Light on the sauce. Side of garlic bread. And a Corona, please."

"Uh, a cheeseburger for me," Mike said, quickly glancing at the menu one last time. "No mustard. Side of fries. And I'll take a Corona too, please."

"All right, these will be up soon," the waitress announced with a smile, picking up the stack of menus from the table before walking away.

"So, you think you can actually get somewhere with this robbery case?" Mike pressed once she was out of earshot.

Phil nodded slightly. "We're narrowing down the list of possibilities, and we've got some good people on it," he told him. "It might take a little time, but we'll get these guys."

Mike smiled, but before he could say anything, they were all interrupted by a loud laugh. "Oh, my God! Phil?! I never thought I'd see _you _in a bar!"

Sighing quietly to himself, Phil forced a smile on his face as he turned to look over his shoulder at the speaker. "Hello, Barbie," he said.

Barbara Blank smiled in return, but the officer could tell that she had already had a couple drinks as she wavered slightly when she approached the table and adjusted her low cut, short, pink strapless dress. "What are you doing here?" she asked, lightly leaning against his arm.

"Meeting with my friends," Phil answered as he turned to look at the three men sitting with him. "Kofi, Bryan, Mike, this is our lovely night dispatcher, Barbie."

"Nice to meet you," Kofi said politely while Bryan nodded. Mike simply raised an eyebrow.

"Hey, guys," Barbara replied, taking a sip of the drink she held in her hand, which had a faint fruit smell, through a thin red straw. "But I always thought you didn't drink, Phil. Weird. Hey, do you dance?"

Phil looked at her for a moment before glancing at the dance floor on the other side of the room. "Um... Well, one, I don't drink," he clarified. "And two, no, I can't say I'm much of a dancer."

Barbara's brow furrowed slightly. "Aww, that's a shame," she muttered, already moving slightly to the catchy beat. "My friend Victoria and I are gonna be dancing in a little while after we finish eating. If you change your mind or if any of you guys wanna join in, feel free to come on over!"

Kofi smiled slightly as he took a sip of ice water with his left hand, ensuring that his silver wedding band was clearly visible, while Mike and Bryan exchanged looks while chuckling quietly. Phil smirked. "We'll keep that in mind, Barbie, thank you."

"Sure thing, Phil!" Barbara smiled as she chewed on one of the ice cubes in her drink and patted his shoulder before she turned to walk away. She didn't get too far, however, when her red-haired friend joined her, a drink in her own hand. Mike's eyebrows raised.

"Victoria?"

At the sound of her name, Victoria Crawford looked up from adjusting her short, deep purple halter dress and smiled at her boss. "Hey, Mike, didn't expect to see you here!"

"No, I didn't either," Mike muttered, a slight smile appearing on his own face. Bryan chuckled quietly and shook his head, which the other man chose to ignore.

"Well, we're gonna go finish eating and then hit the dance floor," Victoria said, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "If we don't see you guys before, I'll see ya tomorrow, Mike."

Kofi laughed a little himself as the two women walked away. "Well, aren't you two being hit on?" he teased, glancing from Mike to Phil.

The latter rolled his eyes. "Ah, they've been drinking," Phil said, taking a sip of his ice water.

Bryan smirked. "Still, I think Mike might be considering joining Barbie and Victoria on the dance floor later," he replied.

Mike narrowed his eyes at Bryan. "Really, man? Really?" The other man simply laughed harder.

It wasn't too long after Bryan began talking to the group about how his girlfriend's latest comic book was coming along when the waitress returned to their table carrying their tray of food. She set down all four plates in the correct places followed by their drinks before leaving, and Kofi raised his bottle in the air.

"Just gotta say that I'm really glad we could meet tonight. _All _of us," he announced with a pointed look at Mike as he and Bryan also picked up their bottles while Phil raised his glass. "It's been two years since that's happened, and I'm happy to see that it looks like it's gonna continue. So, with that said, I'm dedicating this to the old gang."

"To the old gang!" the other three men added. Phil felt a small smile appear on his face at the words, and then all four of them clinked their drinks together.

**Author's Note**: So, again a more lighthearted chapter, but don't get too comfortable with it. The tone will change rather quickly, lol. And even in this chapter there were a couple key things that should be kept in mind. Just minor things, and there will be more coming up in the next ones, so never fear! Thanks for reading! Your reviews are much appreciated. Thanks!


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing associated with the WWE. Just any OCs! And the Michael Bolton name reference belongs to the wonderful writers of the movie _Office Space_.

**Summary**: AU. "Never take anything for granted. For everything can be taken away in a heartbeat." When a brutal attack causes Phil Brooks to lose his memory, he struggles to not only piece his life back together and regain what was lost, but also to discover who still wants him dead.

**Author's Note**: Thanks for the reviews, guys! I appreciate them! So, as said last time, the lighthearted tone will pretty much be outta' here from this point forward until the end. Don't get me wrong, there will be lighthearted moments here and there, but there won't be anymore completely light chapters until everything's said and done. Also with that said, clues will be a bit more prominent from here on out, so definitely keep an eye out for those! They'll lead us along through the craziness that is the rest of this story, lol. So, keeping all that in mind, enjoy and happy hunting! :)

_Chapter 9_

Phil carelessly tossed his keys down on his kitchen table, sighing as he ran his hand through his loose, dark hair. He walked to the refrigerator and pulled out the almost empty carton of pulp-free orange juice, twisting the cap off and drinking the little that remained. Once empty, he tossed the carton in the recycling bag and turned off the kitchen light before walking into the living room and sinking down onto the couch, elevating his feet on the low table in front of him. It had been a fun night at the bar with three of his closest friends, but he had also been looking forward to just relaxing in his own apartment.

A few moments passed as he simply sat on the couch, his head resting on the back cushion with his eyes closed, before he slowly opened them again as he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. Phil sighed as he scrolled through his contacts until he came to Cheline's name, but he hesitated before he could make the call. His younger sister had seemed a bit distant since their slight argument about Michael, and as much as he wanted to mend things with her, he couldn't quite bring himself to do the same with his older brother. Not yet. Passing a tattooed hand over his face, he groaned quietly with frustration as he set his phone on the couch beside him.

But then, Phil glanced down when he felt it beginning to vibrate as the screen lit up, and he reached over to see who would be calling him at this hour. He was slightly relieved to see his best friend's name, and he flipped the phone open and brought it to his ear. "Hello?"

_"Hey, man_," Scott said. _"You sound kinda tired. Is now a good time?"_

Phil sighed as he rubbed his eyes. "Yeah, it's fine," he replied. "What's up?"

_"I just thought you'd be interested to know that I've been narrowing down the list of possibilities for who could have sent the rock through Lynne's window and vandalized her classroom, as well as robbed that Starbucks," _Scott explained, sounding just as tired as Phil felt. _"The extra digit in the license plate Kevin was able to catch really helped a lot. Thought I'd run some of the names past you to see if they sounded familiar in any way."_

"All right. Go on." Phil slowly rose to his feet and left the living room, walking down the short, narrow hallway to his bedroom.

_"Well, let's see. We've got a Nathan Lloyd. Anthony Miller. Emily Watson. Missy Harper. Amanda Hartford." _Scott paused briefly._ "You're gonna love this one, man. Michael Bolton."_

Despite himself, Phil chuckled quietly as he sat down on the bed, reaching for the latest issue of _The Walking Dead_ comic book series that sat on the low table next to him. "Bolton?" he repeated. "Like the singer?"

Scott laughed too. _"Someone was obviously a fan," _he muttered. _"Poor kid. But anyway, any of these ring a bell so far?"_

"Besides Bolton, no," Phil told him as he opened to the page toward the middle that he had gently folded down. "And I doubt we're thinking of the right guy, so no, I don't recognize any of them. Look, man. It was probably just something random. You know kids these days. You can run 'em all through the system when you go in tomorrow to see if any of 'em show up with a criminal record, though. Try to narrow it down even more."

_"All right, sounds like a plan."_

Phil raised an eyebrow when he heard a hint of humor in his best friend's tone. "What's so funny?" he wondered curiously.

Scott chuckled. _"Nothing," _he answered. _"I'm just picturing the look on your mom's face if I told her the guy I'm looking for is Michael Bolton."_

A broad grin spread across Phil's face at the thought. Lynne's expression would be rather priceless. "All right, well thanks for the update," he said. "I'm glad to hear that you're making progress on the disturbance."

_"No problem," _Scott replied. _"Thought it was something you should know. I'll tell ya how running 'em through the system goes tomorrow."_

"Okay, thanks," Phil muttered. "Night, Scott."

_"Have a good night, man."_

Phil ended the call on his phone and tossed it lightly onto the bed next to him, sighing as he settled back more comfortably against the pillows as he began to pick up from where he had left off the night before. But he only got through a couple pages when his phone began to vibrate again and made a quiet sound to signal that he had received a text message. The officer finished the panel he was on before reaching out and picking it up, seeing it was from Cheline.

_Going for lunch with Natalie after I pick her up from the airport tomorrow afternoon. Do u wanna join us on ur break?_

A slight smile appeared at the corner of Phil's lips as he quickly sent back his answer. It would be good to not only be on good terms with his younger sister again, but also to see his twin. _Sure thing, Chel. Just let me know where u wanna meet up. I may have my rookie with me tho._

It didn't take long to get a response. _Ok. I'll text u tomorrow when I get Nat. That's fine. We'd like to meet him._

_See u tomorrow. _Phil once again tossed his phone aside before turning back to the black and white pages of his comic book. However, he didn't get very far when his eyes began to droop, and when he opened them again, he found the book was lying open on his stomach out of the grasp of his loose hand. Taking a deep breath, Phil sat up straighter against the pillows and rubbed his eyes, glancing at the clock and noticing that it was five minutes to three. He had dozed off for nearly forty-five minutes.

Knowing that this personal case must have been getting to him more than he realized, Phil stretched as he set his comic aside and got off the bed, passing a hand over his face as he wandered into the bathroom. He switched on the light and stared at the dark rings under his eyes and his weary expression for a long moment before turning on the sink. He waited for the water to cool before leaning down and splashing some on his face, quickly drying off before he carefully took his contacts out and disposed of them.

Once his thin glasses were in place, Phil turned off the light again and walked through the living room to the kitchen, grabbing a container of strawberry-banana yogurt and a spoon from out of the drawer. He quickly opened it before sinking down onto the couch, flipping through some channels to see if there was anything other than infomercials on at three in the morning. He smirked to himself when he glimpsed Michael Bolton advertised in a commercial for a three-disc love songs collection before settling on a cheesy sci-fi horror movie to relax to. He made himself a bit more comfortable by elevating his feet on the low table once more, shaking his head slightly as he took a bite of his yogurt when a young woman was attacked by an unrealistic looking zombie.

Then, Phil glanced away from the television screen when his landline phone began to ring. Sighing, he set the yogurt down on the table before getting to his feet to see who was calling so late, and his brow furrowed slightly when he saw it was the same number from the night before when Scott had been over building the house of cards. Frustrated now, he picked up the phone and brought it to his ear.

"Who the hell is this?"

However, he only heard a couple quiet deep breaths on the other end before the call was ended.

* * *

Scott straightened up in his chair behind his desk slightly, rubbing his eyes from staring at the computer screen for so long. The police station was quiet that morning since he had come in an hour before his shift actually started, but he figured that it would be the best time to find out any information for Phil that he could. He crossed out the names "Missy Harper" and "Amanda Hartford" from his list of possible suspects in the disturbance at the Brooks household and the Starbucks robbery, and so far, he hadn't had any luck finding criminal records for any of them other than running through red lights or having overdue parking tickets. This left the name he had been most looking forward to investigating, and he couldn't stop the smile from spreading across his face as he began to type in "Michael Bolton."

"Well, aren't _you_ cheerful for coming into work earlier than you're supposed to?"

Scott glanced up to see that Nick was leaning casually against the doorway of his office, snacking on a protein bar. "I can't help but find this amusing," he admitted, his smile lingering as he turned back to the computer screen. "It's for the disturbance at Lynne's place and a couple other incidents."

Nick's light eyes narrowed slightly as he tossed the empty wrapper into the garbage can near the door before walking further into the room. "So... that's amusing how?" he wondered.

"I'm running a background check on a Michael Bolton who lives in Chicago," Scott explained with a smirk.

The other officer arched a questioning eyebrow. "Bolton? Isn't he that guy..."

"The singer? Yeah." Scott chuckled. "Man, it would suck to have that name. _So_ many jokes." Nick nodded his agreement.

Then, a quiet _ding_ filled the room as the criminal check loaded. However, Scott's brow furrowed with confusion when he saw the results. "What the..."

Nick watched his friend carefully as he slowly began to pull his cell phone out of his pocket, but then he turned when he heard approaching footsteps as someone else entered the office. Scott glanced up as well, leaving his phone on his desk instead. "Hey, man, I was just about to call you."

Phil looked at the other two men curiously. "Why, what's up?" he asked, taking a sip from the Pepsi bottle he had grabbed from the vending machine.

Scott absently bit on his bottom lip for a brief second before meeting his best friend's gaze. "There's no Michael Bolton in Chicago," he answered.

"What?" Phil hurried past Nick to stand behind the desk next to Scott. "I thought you said the car the possible plate belongs with was registered to Bolton."

"It is," Scott muttered, gesturing to the list he had brought in. "However, there is no Bolton in the system."

"Maybe he just doesn't have a criminal record?" Phil suggested, looking at the "no matches found" message that was flashing on the screen.

But Scott shook his head. "No, I cross-referenced the name with Chicago records," he said. "If there was a guy by the name of Michael Bolton living here, it would have found him, criminal record or not. So, what we basically have here is a car registered to someone who doesn't exist."

"But how could that be?" Nick pressed as he approached the desk too. "If this Michael Bolton guy was able to buy a car, he would have to have some sort of records for proof of identity."

"Unless the car wasn't bought here in Illinois," Scott pointed out.

However, Phil shook his head. "They were definitely Illinois plates," he told them, taking another sip of soda before setting the bottle down on the desk. "But I don't know how they could be registered to Bolton if he's not a resident."

"An alias?" Nick wondered.

Scott shrugged. "Possibly," he agreed. "But even so, there would have to be some form of identity. You can't just give any old name to a car dealer and expect to get the car. Not when they have to check credit records and stuff like that."

Phil continued to stare thoughtfully at the computer screen for a long moment, ignoring the other two men around him. Scott looked at him curiously, recognizing the look in his eye. "What's on your mind, man?" he asked.

The dark-haired officer slowly shook his head before he sighed and straightened up. "We're dealing with someone who knows his way around the system," he murmured.

Scott and Nick exchanged startled glances before both turning to Phil. "Someone who knows his way around the system?" the latter repeated. "Do you mean–!"

But before he could finish his question, Nick, Phil, and Scott all looked up when a fourth man appeared in the doorway. "I need all three of you in the lobby. Now," Darren said, his English accent urgent before he disappeared from sight.

Phil glanced at Scott and Nick, hesitating for only a brief second as he grabbed his Pepsi bottle again before hurrying after the Chief with his two friends behind him. They jogged down the hallway to the lobby where Darren was standing with Layla, nearly the entire police force gathered before them. Phil made his way through the crowd to where his rookie and Trent Barreta were standing toward the back.

"What's going on?" he asked quietly.

Matt shrugged as he glanced at his mentor. "Not sure," he answered. "Chief just called us all here."

"Quie' down, everyone," Darren said as he cleared his throat. The nervous chatter instantly died down. "There is a hold-up a' the First National Bank on Fifth Street and Main. I've sen' those ou' on patrol there already to ge' a better idea of the situation. According to the head of security, they have all been forced ou' of the building by two armed men wearing dark ski masks. However, there are still a few people held hostage inside, but to the exten' of my knowledge, there have been no casualties. They also do no' seem interested in robbing the bank, bu' they have no' made their demands ye'. I need as many of you as possible to head ou' now so we can ge' this sorted ou'. I'll be joining you."

Phil watched as Nick and Scott stuck close together as they led the way out of the station to get to the former's squad car, most of the group following after them. "Well," he muttered casually as he and Matt made it out to the parking lot with Darren close behind. "There goes my lunch date."

The drive to the bank from the police station roughly took about ten minutes since it wasn't too far away, and Phil parked his car across the street from the large building behind the Chief's. He and Matt followed Darren closely as more squad cars joined the ones that were already there, sirens blaring and lights flashing as they made their way across the street to where a large crowd was standing at the foot of the marble stairs. A large number of their own forces was already there, debating about the best way to proceed to get the hostages out alive, a few news reporters were already on the scene with cameras rolling, and some curious bystanders stood close as they watched the scene with horror.

Darren immediately approached a tall, bald man dressed in a dark uniform who had a walkie-talkie in his hand, and Phil pulled his rookie along after him so they could hear the situation too. His eyes wandered around the area in attempt to take everything in, his gaze resting on a couple of the bank's exterior cameras when he noticed they were all directed at them.

"Any news, Glenn?" the Chief wondered.

Head of security Glenn Jacobs sighed as he shook his head slightly. "None at all, Darren," he told him. "One of my guards is stuck inside, and they've been keeping in touch with me off and on through these." He raised his hand holding the walkie-talkie slightly for emphasis. "They haven't released any of the hostages yet, but they haven't killed any of them either. I have no idea what they could be after, Darren. They've made it clear that it's not about the money."

"Very well, then," Darren muttered as he looked warily around the area. "We'll try contacting them to see abou' negotiating for the hostages." He then glanced at the two officers standing next to him. "Glenn, I'd like to introduce you to Phil Brooks and Matthew Cardona, one of my officers and his rookie."

Glenn smiled slightly as he held out his hand, which Phil quickly shook. "It's a pleasure," he said as Matt then did the same. "I've been hearing a lot about you lately, Brooks. This kid's lucky to be learning from you."

Phil brushed off the compliment, watching as Scott, Nick, and Trent made their way toward them. But before he could say anything in response, a quiet _crackle _was heard from the walkie-talkie in Glenn's hand before an electronic-sounding voice broke through the speaker.

_"I want to speak to Chief Darren Matthews."_

Glenn glanced at Darren, who nodded and held his hand out. Phil watched carefully as the head of security handed the walkie-talkie over to the Englishman, who sighed before he brought it closer to his mouth. "This is Chief Matthews speaking," he replied, his eyes landing on the security cameras attached to the light post near them.

Matt shuffled his feet nervously when silence came from the small device. Phil watched him for a moment before exchanging wondering looks with Scott, who shrugged. Nick looked just as tense as they did while Trent appeared anxious.

Finally, there was a quiet laugh from the walkie-talkie, and it was clear whoever was on the inside of the bank speaking into the other one had some sort of device to distort his voice. Even Phil felt slightly unnerved at the sound. _"So, Darren, you wanted to negotiate about the hostages, did you?" _the man asked, still chuckling quietly. _"Well, I'm here to negotiate. But not with you."_

Darren exchanged a confused look with Glenn, clearing his throat before pressing the small button to reply. "Then why did you wan' to speak with me?" he wondered.

There was another long moment of silence before the second man responded. _"Because you're in charge," _he answered. _"You need to do what I ask, or I will start killing the hostages one by one until you comply."_

"Wha' do you wan' me to do?" Darren's lips had set in a thin, stern line as he waited for the reply. Every part of him wanted to argue with this man, but he decided against it since there were lives at risk. He would see what this person wanted.

Another laugh broke through the speaker of the walkie-talkie. _"It's very simple," _he told him. _"The negotiations are to take place in person inside this building."_

"I can do tha'," Darren assured him. "Just le' me–!"

_"You didn't let me finish, Darren," _the other man interrupted, catching the Chief off guard. _"Negotiations will take place here. No weapons. And I want you to send in Officer Phil Brooks."_

"You can't do that, Chief," Nick said immediately as Phil's eyes went wide. "That's crazy!"

Darren looked at the younger officer for a moment, but before he could say anything in response, another laugh came from the walkie-talkie in his hand. _"The concern for one of your most prized officers is touching, Darren, it really is," _the man muttered with a taunting tone. _"However, to make sure my demands are clear, I'll start by killing one of the hostages. The next one will die in three minutes, and then three minutes after that, and then three minutes after that until they are all dead, should you not comply."_

The Chief looked at the small device he held with slight traces of fear, but Phil quickly reached forward and snatched it from his hand. "You want me?" he snapped angrily after pushing the button to reply. "Then you'll get me, you son of a bitch!"

"Phil..." Darren began with caution.

However, the younger man simply smiled in return. "No one's gonna die because I don't go in there, Darren," Phil stated, taking his gun off his belt. He paused for a moment before handing it to the Chief along with the walkie-talkie, his smile lingering. "Besides, I'll be fine. Don't worry about me."

Darren studied him for a long moment before he nodded with a sigh. "Very well," he muttered, holding the weapon he had been given tightly in his hand. "Go on, then."

Scott was silent during their quiet exchange, but as soon as Darren and Phil were finished speaking, he reached forward and grabbed the latter's arm. "It doesn't have to go like this, Phil. There's something about this I _really_ don't like."

Phil turned to look at his best friend for a moment before glancing at Nick and Trent behind him, who both had matching looks of concern on their faces. His eyes then moved to Matt, who was gazing at him with an even blend of fear and awe. "It'll be fine, Scott," he told him quietly.

Another brief moment passed before Scott sighed as he released his arm, and Phil nodded to the small group around him, setting his hand momentarily on his rookie's arm before he turned and began to walk up the marble steps toward the bank entrance.

"Be careful," Glenn said after him. Phil paused, glancing over his shoulder at the head of security and giving him a thumb's up signal before he climbed the rest of the stairs and pushed open the door.

The dimly lit hallway lay silent before him, the only sounds heard being his own footsteps echoing off the hard floor and his quiet breathing. His fingers were automatically reaching for the gun that usually sat on his belt, and Phil found he suddenly felt quite vulnerable without it. He just had to keep his goal in mind, he knew. Get the hostages out alive. Everything else would be determined later.

Soon, he came to a large, circular room, a high desk sitting across from him with a few smaller ones on either side of him. Phil cautiously stepped inside, his senses on high alert as he quickly looked around for the two masked men, but he didn't see any sign of them. He slowly made his way further into the room, his heartbeat echoing loudly in his ears.

Then, a quiet but panicked sound on his left alerted him that he wasn't alone, and Phil quickly turned to see six people were sitting close together against the wall, all pale-faced and terrified. One was an elderly man with thick glasses and a cane, and beside him sat a middle-aged woman dressed in a suit who must have been an employee. On her other side sat a young couple who appeared as though they were barely older than twenty. Beside the couple sat a brunette he immediately saw was Eve Torres, and on the end sat a man who was dressed similarly to Glenn who must have been the security guard who had been trapped inside.

"Officer," the man muttered respectfully, but his tone wavered slightly.

"Thank God you're here, Phil," Eve added. "I-It all happened so fast... I-I stopped by here on my way home from work, and..."

"Have... have you come to get us o-out?" the young girl stammered from her boyfriend's arms, interrupting the older woman.

Phil sighed as he nodded once in assurance, trying to keep his gaze away from his ex-girlfriend. "Were there any more of you kept in here?" he asked, hoping that the men hadn't gone back on their word and killed one of the hostages before he had gotten inside.

"N-no, it was just us," the middle-aged woman answered. "They... they were threatening to ki-kill us..."

"They're not gonna kill you," Phil told them firmly. He looked around the vast room once more, still not seeing either of the masked men, before he began to walk toward the small group.

Suddenly, Phil was stopped by a pair of gloved hands grabbing his arms, and the three women screamed as he was pulled back from them. The officer turned and found he was facing the barrel of a black handgun before raising his gaze to the taller man's masked face, though all that was visible was a pair of angry hazel eyes. However, the gunman didn't pull the trigger or even threaten him like Phil expected he would. Instead, all he did was check to see if he had any concealed weapons on him before he backed away but kept his gun trained on him.

"Let them go," Phil said, keeping his eyes on the masked man as he gestured to the six people sitting against the wall. "You wanted me in here to negotiate, and I kept my part of the deal."

Then, there was a quiet, electronic-sounding laugh from behind him as another pair of echoing footsteps drew nearer, and Phil slowly turned to see that the second masked man was making his way toward them. He was shorter than the first but had the essence of the one in charge by the way he proudly carried himself, but he also noticed that he had a slight limp to his step. The gun he carried in his hand was lowered at his side.

_"Very good, Phil. You obeyed orders, just as I knew you would," _the second man muttered as he gave a couple slow, sarcastic claps. Even through the device that distorted his voice, the officer instantly knew that he was the one who had spoken to them through the walkie-talkie.

Phil felt a slight pang of annoyance at his words, but he brushed it aside as he narrowed his eyes at him. "Let the hostages go," he repeated.

The other man slowly came to a stop, tilting his head slightly as he regarded the officer. _"Always so predictable," _he replied with a sigh. _"But, very well. If it means you'll stay and talk for a little while..." _He nodded to the taller masked man, who backed further away from Phil.

The officer immediately hurried over to the six people against the wall, helping the elderly man to his feet while the young man pulled his girlfriend up with him and the security guard, middle-aged woman, and Eve rose to their feet. The guard took Phil's place at the older man's side, taking a secure hold of his arm as he helped lead him out of the vast room. The officer then glanced at Eve when she grasped his hand tightly, fear lingering in her eyes, and he inwardly sighed.

"Go," he whispered, pulling his hand from hers as he nudged her after the retreating group.

_"There, will you talk now?" _the shorter of the two masked man wondered as soon as the hostages were out of harm's way.

Phil turned to look at both of them, still wishing he had his own gun on him as he glanced at both of their weapons. "Why would you do this just to talk to me?"

The other man laughed once more. _"I had to get your attention somehow," _he said as though the answer was obvious. _"You've been making quite a name for yourself lately, boy."_

"Robbing a bank and holding six people hostage is not the way to get my attention," Phil snapped, his anger rising. "If you wanted to talk to me, you–!"

_"Please, robbing a bank is the last thing we wanted to do," _the man interrupted. _"Though the money is a bonus. We'll probably take a little bit on our way out."_

Phil shook his head slightly. "You're not just walking out of here, not after all this," he muttered. "Nearly the entire Chicago police force is standing just outside that door. You won't get far."

_"Also not a concern," _the man muttered casually. _"But you don't understand, Phil. These drastic measures we took were the only way we could talk to you. Tell me, how's your mother doing?"_

Dread flooded through Phil at the question, an emotion that was quickly replaced by anger. "You..."

_"Now you know how long we've been trying to get your attention," _the second man told him as he slowly started to take a couple steps closer to the officer.

Phil stared at the two masked men with wide eyes, his anger steadily building once more. But before he could say anything in response, he quickly turned when he heard the loud sound of a door slamming and raised voices drawing nearer. The second man laughed quietly.

_"Well, it looks like we'll have to continue this conversation at another time," _he stated. _"We'll talk soon, my friend."_

Confused about who these two men were, Phil started to turn to face them again. But the last thing he saw was the taller one standing in front of him before something heavy connected with the side of his head, and he fell to the hard floor as he was claimed by darkness.

**Author's Note**: So, this chapter, along with the very minor clues we've had up until this point, really set the groundwork for what's to come for these guys. I would definitely review the information we already have involving this case since it will only be built upon as we continue. More clues will be provided for you as well so you'll be able to put them together and try to answer the questions of who is after Phil, as well as why, before the characters themselves do. So, with that said, thanks for reading! Your reviews are much appreciated. Thank you!


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing associated with the WWE. Just any OCs!

**Summary**: AU. "Never take anything for granted. For everything can be taken away in a heartbeat." When a brutal attack causes Phil Brooks to lose his memory, he struggles to not only piece his life back together and regain what was lost, but also to discover who still wants him dead.

**Author's Note**: Thanks for the reviews, guys! I really appreciate them! What a cliffhanger last time, huh? Lol! Well, I can guarantee that they're not going away anytime soon, haha. But as always, keep an eye out for clues (they will be there), and I look forward to any theories you guys come up with! Happy Halloween, everyone! In the spirit of the holiday (I mean, I just got done walking around campus dressed as Harley Quinn, lol!), I have a little surprise announcement at the end of the chapter. For now, enjoy and happy hunting :)

_Chapter 10_

"Phil! Phil, can you hear me?"

The officer inwardly groaned when he felt a light tap on his cheek before hearing what sounded like someone snapping their fingers in front of his face. He tried to turn his head slightly when another tap hit him in the same place as the first, but there was a second hand holding it in place so that he couldn't really move it. What was going on?

He then felt a fist land on his chest and lightly shake it, and Phil realized that someone was trying to get a response out of him. However, with the slight pounding that still lingered in his head, he really didn't feel like opening his eyes. The peaceful darkness was at least able to block out some of the pain.

The person trying to elicit some evidence of life out of him was relentless, though. He felt them tap his face again before snapping their fingers in front of his face once more as that same voice that had spoken before called out to him. "Come on, Phil! Can you hear me?"

A quiet groan escaped from Phil's throat as his eyes slowly fluttered open about halfway, glancing at the gloved hand that held his head in place. "He's coming to," he heard that voice say in what sounded like a much louder tone. There was another light tap on his cheek, which caused him to open his eyes completely. He simply lay there for a long moment, staring at the high ceiling above him as he attempted to remember where he was.

Then, Phil gasped quietly in surprise when a bright light suddenly shone in his left eye, but he was unable to close it as a thumb lightly held his eyelid up. However, it was only there briefly before the thin beam hit his other eye before vanishing completely.

"Looks fine to me," a female voice muttered. "He's lucky."

"All right. Thanks, Kaitlyn," the familiar male voice replied just as quietly. Then, it immediately grew louder again. "Phil, you with me, man? How many fingers am I holding up?"

Phil quickly blinked a couple times when a second gloved hand appeared in front of his face. He smirked. "The obvious answer is three," he said. "But, knowing you, you're probably flicking me off by having me read between the lines."

A quiet laugh reached his ears as the three fingers disappeared. "Well, I'm not gonna lie and say I'm not glad your sarcasm is still fully intact," the medic told him. "I'd be a bit more concerned if it wasn't."

The officer's smirk broadened as he raised his gaze to the man kneeling on his right, his eyes finding the familiar bearded face. "Definitely be concerned if I'm not ever being a smart ass, Jay."

Jason Reso smiled as he ran a hand through his short, dark blond hair. He had been a member of the medical staff in Chicago for only four years, having been centered in Florida after graduating with his medical degree from a top-rate graduate school and practicing his craft for six years at a small local clinic. The Canadian native had become quick friends with the sarcastic officer he was now tending to, and he found hadn't regretted the decision to move to the bigger city to work alongside the police force.

"Don't worry, I will be," Jay confirmed. "But I'd feel a bit better if you were able to sit up. So, let's try it. Slowly, now."

Phil nodded, feeling Jay's hand move from the side of his head to a more supportive position behind it. Then, he glanced to his left with confusion when another pair of hands, definitely feminine, landed on his arms, and he found himself looking at a woman with shoulder length blonde hair with a black under layer. He moved his gaze back to the other medic. "Who's this, Jay?" he wondered.

Jay smiled. "Kaitlyn, my intern," he explained. "She'll be working with me for the next five months or so. It's part of her degree program in medical school."

"Oh." Phil turned back to the woman and gave her a small smile. "Good luck with this guy."

Kaitlyn laughed a little. "I have no complaints so far," she said. Phil just chuckled quietly himself.

Jay rolled his eyes before turning back to the officer. "All right, Phil, on the count of three," he told him. "One, two, three."

Phil started to sit up, and with help from Kaitlyn gently pulling on his arms and with Jay supporting his head from behind, he made it safely upright. "Okay, Phil, look at me," the medic instructed, not removing his hand from the other man's head as he reached into his pocket. Once he was looking in his direction, Jay carefully held one of his eyes open by the lid and briefly flashed a thin flashlight beam into it before doing the same to the other.

"God, are you two _trying_ to blind me?" Phil asked in mock exasperation, blinking a few times to try to get rid of the bright dots he now saw in front of his face.

Jay chuckled quietly. "Are you kidding? We'd never hear the end of your complaining," he answered, earning a dark look from the officer. "But I need you to follow the light with just your eyes now, okay?"

Sighing, Phil did as he was instructed, following the flashlight beam as Jay moved it up, down, and to the sides a few times. Once he was satisfied, the medic returned the small device to his pocket before beginning to lightly press on the side of Phil's head, causing him to wince.

"Well, you have no outward signs of a concussion," Jay muttered, a small smile on his face. "As Kaitlyn said, you're lucky. You'll just be sore for a while. But just to be safe, I'm going to talk to Darren to make sure you take at least the rest of today and tomorrow off because God knows you won't do it on your own. Can't be too careful with something like a head injury."

"Your confidence in me flatters me, Jay," Phil muttered with slight irritation.

Jay smirked. "Nah, I just know you too well," he replied.

Phil chuckled quietly as he shook his head slightly, which in turn caused him to wince at the sudden motion. Once the sharp pain passed, he opened his eyes and slowly looked around him, seeing he was sitting on the hard floor with a few desks on either side of him, a higher one across from him. Officers were scattered through the vast, circular room, speaking with each other in small groups. He spotted Nick in the crowd talking anxiously on his cell phone to who he could hear was Cody, Trent standing close by.

Then, Phil glanced to his right when he heard hurried footsteps drawing nearer, a slight smile appearing on his face when Scott knelt down next to him. "Are you all right, man?" he asked anxiously, looking at his best friend with concern.

"Yeah, I'll be fine," Phil assured him, closing his eyes briefly as he rubbed his forehead. "Just a little sore."

Scott sighed with clear relief, reaching out and setting his hand on the other man's shoulder. "What happened?" he pressed. "What did those men want?"

Phil met Scott's gaze, and his hazel eyes narrowed when the memories suddenly came back to him. The six hostages... the two masked men with guns...

_"Tell me, how is your mother doing..."_

"How are you feeling, Phil?"

Startled by the sudden English accent, Phil and Scott both looked up to see that Darren had approached them. "Fine," the former answered with a slight smirk. "Never better."

Darren rolled his eyes before turning his attention to the medics when they rose to their feet. "Thank you for responding to the call, Jay," he said, shaking his hand. "It's good to have someone I trust checking over one of my best officers."

"No problem at all, Darren," Jay replied with a smile as he glanced at Phil. "_Someone _has to keep an eye on him."

"I'm right here, Jay," Phil mumbled, causing the other man to laugh.

"But in all seriousness, I need Phil to take a couple days off. At least until after tomorrow," Jay continued, turning back to the Chief. "He's showing no outward signs of a concussion, but head injuries are something you can't take a chance with."

"Of course." Darren turned to look at the officer in question, who still sat on the floor in front of him. "Phil, I don' wan' to see you back a' the station until Wednesday." He raised an eyebrow when the other man opened his mouth to protest. "_Don't_ argue with me."

Seeing that he had no other choice, Phil sighed as he nodded in silent agreement. Darren smiled. "That's a good lad," he muttered. "Can you stand?"

Phil smiled. "Of course I can stand," he said, beginning to push himself to his feet. When he got into a crouching position, however, he wavered a little, and Scott immediately grabbed his arm as Darren reached out to steady him as well while Phil set one hand on the hard floor to keep his balance. A moment passed before the injured officer smiled at the concerned people standing around him, once again starting to try and stand. Scott kept a secure hold on his best friend's arms while Darren stayed close, and Jay watched carefully as Phil finally made it to an upright position.

"I'm fine, Scott," he told him, but he still wavered slightly.

Scott chuckled quietly as the Chief held his hands out as another steadying gesture in case he was needed. "Yeah, of course, man," he replied. "I know you are."

Phil turned to the other man with a raised eyebrow, but before he could say anything, Jay once again approached the officer. "Phil, look at me," he stated.

"_Again_?" Phil asked in mock exasperation, but he did as he was told. He winced slightly when Jay lightly pressed on the side of his head to check the injury now that he was upright, and then once again flashed the small flashlight beam in both of his eyes.

"Your pupils are a bit dilated now, but not enough to be of concern," the medic muttered as Kaitlyn approached him. "Listen to Darren and stay home until Wednesday to rest up. It's important, Phil."

Phil smirked in response as he blinked a couple times to try to clear the dots he now saw in front of his face. "Yes, Mom." Jay grinned, patting the other man on the arm.

Darren chuckled quietly, relieved that the other officer at least outwardly appeared like himself. "Go home and ge' some rest, Phil," he muttered. "I'd offer to ge' you some pain killers, bu' I know you won' take them. I'll see you on Wednesday."

For once, Phil didn't argue with the Chief. At the moment, rest sounded ideal. But then, he quickly looked around the bank when he remembered what had transpired before he had been knocked out, the action causing him to wince slightly again. "Those men... Did they escape?"

"Phil, I really don' wan' you to concern yourself with tha' right now..." Darren began with a hint of warning in his tone.

"No," Phil interrupted quietly, turning to the older man. "Please."

Darren exchanged a wondering glance with Scott before sighing. "You were the only one in here when we arrived," he explained. "We found two masks near a side exit, so we assumed tha' they just removed them and left without suspicion. We had all the exits covered, but they must have slipped through. Some money was taken, but no' nearly as much as we had expected."

_"Though the money is a bonus. We'll probably take a little bit on our way out..."_

Phil inwardly groaned, knowing that the two men had probably taken some to spite him. The hold-up hadn't initially been about the money, of that much he was certain.

Darren seemed to guess the other officer's frustration. "Phil, there wasn' anything you could have done," he told him. "I shouldn' have sen' you in here alone."

"Then people would have died, Darren." Phil smiled slightly. "Besides, I know what they want, at least to an extent."

The Chief's eyebrows raised in surprise while Scott looked at his best friend in confusion. "Which is?" the latter pressed.

Phil's smile lingered as he patted Scott's arm before taking a couple tentative steps away from him, pleased to find that he wasn't falling over. Instead of giving the other man an answer, however, he turned to look at Darren. "I'll give you my report on Wednesday when I come in," he said before glancing at the medic. "Jay, for once I'm gonna listen to your advice and go home and get some rest."

Jay chuckled quietly, though there was a trace of concern in his gaze. "You sure you're feeling okay, man?" he wondered.

Phil gave him another smile before he slowly continued to walk away from the trio. "I'll see you all on Wednesday," he called over his shoulder. If they said anything in response, he didn't hear them, and he simply kept walking. He passed by many officers as he made his way out of the vast room, stopped only by Nick briefly asking him if he was all right before he continued on. He took his cell phone out of his pocket as he slowly walked down the dimly lit hall, seeing he had gotten a text from Cheline.

_Omg Nat and I saw u on the news at the airport! U r crazy! R u ok?!_

Phil smiled slightly as he slowed his pace a little to send his response. _Fine, little sis. Sorry I can't make lunch. I have off until Wed though. Maybe we can meet tomorrow?_

His smile lingering, he put his phone back in his pocket to wait for her answer as he continued walking. He saw Glenn standing near the main door talking to the guard who had been a hostage in the hold-up, and they both nodded to him respectfully in silent thanks as Phil stepped outside of the bank. He squinted slightly in the bright afternoon sunlight, pausing for a moment before he slowly began to make his way down the marble steps. He only got halfway down before he heard another voice from behind him.

"Officer Brooks! Officer Brooks!"

Sighing quietly, Phil stopped and slowly turned in time to see his rookie hurrying down the stairs after him. He smiled slightly when he reached the same step he was on. "Stop that, kid," he scolded teasingly. "It's just Phil."

Matt looked at him, startled, as his mentor continued down the steps, hand on the railing. Never before had the other officer dropped the formality between them. A small smile began to spread across his face as the Long Island native continued after him. "Are you okay?" he asked once he caught up. "I mean, if I could have gone in there with you, I totally would have..."

Phil chuckled quietly as they both reached the sidewalk before turning to the younger man. "Yeah, I'm fine," he answered. "Don't worry, Matt." He smirked at the slight look of disbelief that appeared on his rookie's face at this use of his nickname. "Listen, I'm gonna be out until Wednesday due to my pain in the ass medic's orders. But I still want you to come in. Help out Officer Colton until I come back on Wednesday. Listen to him as you would me."

"Okay, Officer Bro–!" Matt paused when his mentor arched an eyebrow. "Er, Phil. I'll get right on it."

The other officer nodded, but before he could say anything in response, he sighed with frustration when a couple of reporters hurried over to them, men with cameras he was sure were already rolling behind them. "Officer Brooks, if we could just have a quick word..."

"No, Officer Brooks is not available for comment at this time," Matt told them sharply, catching Phil by surprise. His rookie then placed his hand on his arm and began to steer him away from the irritating reporters, who were still calling his name.

Phil chuckled quietly as he glanced over his shoulder at them before turning to the younger man. "Hey, thanks, kid," he muttered gratefully.

Matt smiled slightly in return as he released his mentor's arm once they were far enough away. "Not a problem," he replied. "I figured with how you're feeling you wouldn't want to be bothered by them too. They'd probably only make your headache worse."

"You got that right." Phil smiled a little himself as they crossed the street to his squad car, pausing before he opened the driver's door. "I'll see you on Wednesday, Matt."

"Yep, see you then, Phil."

Phil then climbed in behind the wheel, sighing and closing his eyes as he leaned back against the seat. He waited for the pounding in his head to subside slightly before opening his eyes again and taking his keys out of his pocket, putting them in the ignition and slowly starting to drive away from the bank. He turned right at the first intersection he came to in the direction of his apartment, looking forward to sleeping as soon as he got there.

* * *

Scott sighed, passing a weary hand over his face as he sat at his desk at the station, staring intently at his computer screen once more. That morning felt like a blur to him, but he still could clearly remember the worry he felt at watching his best friend walk unarmed into a hostage situation. He was grateful that all Phil had gotten in the exchange was a headache, and he didn't even want to imagine what _could_ have happened.

But something still didn't sit well with him about the entire hold-up. The men had made it clear that they hadn't invaded the bank to rob it, but yet they had specifically asked for Phil to negotiate for the people they were holding hostage. The other officer had also mentioned that he, to an extent, knew what they had wanted. What it was, he had no idea, but he made a mental note to himself to go to his apartment as soon as he got off his shift. Something was bothering Phil, he knew that for sure.

Scott then glanced over at Matt, who was looking diligently through license plate records attempting to narrow down on their Michael Bolton lead. He had to admit he was impressed. The young rookie had not only somehow kept a straight face when he had explained the situation to him, but he hadn't taken a single break after he had gotten his instruction to start looking. Whether Matt was just trying to be a hard worker or if he was just trying to do well under him so that Phil would be pleased, Scott wasn't sure. Regardless, he appreciated the help and the effort shown.

Then, the officer glanced up when the door to his office opened, watching as Nick stepped inside with a few sheets of paper in his hand. "Well, I didn't find anything on a Michael Bolton, but I found a bit more information on the car," he said, dropping the sheets down on the desk as soon as he approached it.

"Hey, that's a good start," Scott replied, picking up the top one to glance over it.

Nick smiled slightly. "The Chevy Malibu with license plate _A3L-24H _can be traced back to a used car dealership downtown," he told him.

Scott quickly skimmed through the other three sheets as well before setting them down in a pile and looking up at Nick. "So, maybe we can talk to the owner to see if he remembers selling this car," he muttered. "He's gotta have some record of the transaction."

"Exactly," Nick confirmed with a nod. "We may find your missing singer yet."

The other officer chuckled as he glanced at his watch. "Well, it's too late to head over there now since it'll be closed by the time we get there," he mused. "But, we could go first thing in the morning." He glanced over at his best friend's rookie. "What do you say, kid? You up for it?"

Matt immediately looked away from the computer screen, giving the two men a quick nod. "Yes, Officer Colton!"

Scott smirked as he leaned back in his chair, elevating his feet on his desk as Nick leaned against the other side with his arms crossed. "I'm gonna admit, it's kinda nice having a rookie around," he said quietly enough for only his friend to hear. "I so can't wait to have my own one day!"

* * *

Phil yawned as he clambered out of bed, stretching out his back before slowly leaving his small bedroom. The throbbing from the side of his head had subsided greatly, allowing him to think more clearly, which was both a blessing and a curse depending on how he looked at it. The blessing was that at least he didn't have to deal with the pain, but the curse was that he didn't want to think.

The officer straightened out his dark tank top and sweat pants as he ambled down the hall, his bare feet getting caught in the t-shirt of his uniform that he had discarded on the floor as soon as he had reached the apartment. He sighed and bent down to pick up the articles of clothing, tossing them all in the laundry basket.

Once he reached the kitchen, Phil slipped his thin glasses on and picked up his cell phone from the table where he had left it so no one would disturb him while he was resting, rubbing his eyes as he flipped it open. It was almost five in the evening. He had slept the entire afternoon away, which he never did. Somehow, he felt even more tired than when he didn't sleep.

But he also noticed that he had a voicemail, and Phil called his mailbox as he walked into the kitchen. The floor was cold after being under the warm covers, and he quickly pulled out a container of apple juice and poured himself a glass just as the message started.

_"Hey, Phil, it's Natalie. Glad to hear you're okay after what happened today! I was wondering if you wanted to come over for lunch tomorrow. It's been forever since I've seen you, bro! Chel won't be able to make it. She and Mom are busy. They're gonna go meet–!"_

But who exactly his little sister and Lynne were going to meet the next day, Phil didn't know since at that moment, the message cut off. His eyes narrowing in confusion, he lowered the phone, met with a black screen. The little remaining battery had died.

Cursing under his breath, Phil took a sip of juice as he left the kitchen and grabbed the charger from the desk next to his laptop. He set the glass in its place and plugged his phone in, leaving it on the couch. The officer ran his hand through his dark hair, but before he could call his mailbox again to catch the end of his twin's message, there was a soft knock at the door.

Confused about who would be visiting since he hadn't heard from anyone, Phil crossed the living room and unlocked the door before pulling it open. His stomach plummeted as he stared at the tall, dark-haired man standing on the other side.

"Hey, Phil," he said, giving him a slight smile.

However, the officer simply took a deep breath and shook his head as he took a couple steps back. "Get the hell out of my apartment," he muttered. "How'd you even get in?"

The second man titled his head slightly as he instead stepped into the room. "One of your neighbors was coming home when I arrived, and she held the door for me since I told her I was here to see the little brother I haven't heard from in years," he explained. "Look, Phil, I just wanted to talk to you..."

But Phil's eyes narrowed as he glared back at him. He had had enough of that word for one day. "You want to talk? About what? How much money you need from me?" he demanded. "Or how about if there's a way you can worm more money out of Dad's life insurance policy? Huh, Michael? Does that sound about right to you?"

Michael Brooks paused a few paces in front of his younger brother. "What are you talking about?" he wondered. "I don't want any money from anyone."

Phil chuckled quietly, though the sound had a sarcastic tone to it. "Oh, no? Strange, since that's what you usually want when you call or stop by. What's different now?"

"Everything is different now, Phil," Michael told him, shrugging as he slid his hands into the pockets of his dark hoodie. "I mean, I walked out on the family. _My _family. Looking back, it was something I know I shouldn't have done. I was just..." He paused, taking a deep breath. "Look, Phil. I've missed out on so much over the years, and I never had the chance to make things up with Dad. I don't want to make the same mistake when it comes to Mom, or you, or Natalie, or Cheline. I want to see all of you, know how you're doing, get to know what's going on in your lives."

The younger Brooks arched an eyebrow as he crossed his arms in front of his chest. "You want to get to know us, huh?" he repeated. "Well you know, I don't think I ever really knew you at all, Michael. I haven't seen you in what, like ten years or so? I sure as hell don't know what kind of job you have or if you're married and have kids. Hell, I hardly saw you when _I_ was growing up. And suddenly you just come back and want to get to know me?"

"As I told Cheline when I called her to tell her I was in town, I'm here to make things right," Michael replied with a sigh. "I–!"

"Make things _right_?" Phil snapped, years of bottled up animosity toward the older man finally beginning to spill over as he took a few steps closer to him. "If you _really_ wanted to make things right, you would have been here _long _before now! But no, every time we heard from you, it was because you wanted money or some other bullshit reason like that! You weren't here when the family needed you! Where were you when Cheline and Natalie both got married? Where were you when I graduated from the Police Academy? Where were you when your nephews were born? Where were you when Dad died? Where were you when it _mattered_?!"

Michael had remained silent during his brother's escalated rant, and Phil took a deep breath and ran a hand through his loose hair as he attempted to calm himself down. They were things that had been on his mind for so long that it felt as though a great weight had been lifted from his chest now that they had been said. "Look, Phil, I don't know what I can say to make it up to you..." the older Brooks began, but he stopped when the other man narrowed his hazel eyes.

"Don't," Phil muttered with a slight shake of his head. "Just don't even bother now when there were many times in my life where I _needed_ someone like you, and you weren't there. The times growing up when I had my problems with Dad. When both he and my mentor from the police force, two people who mattered so much to me, died. But you know what? I got through it on my own with no help from you, and I'm a stronger man because of it. So don't think that after not seeing you for all these years you can just waltz right back into my life and play the big brother. I don't want it!"

There was a long moment where neither man uttered a word. Then, Michael nodded slightly. "All right, I think I'll just head out," he said, getting no argument from the police officer. "I'll see you around, Phil."

Phil stood stiffly as he watched his older brother turn and slowly leave his apartment, watched as he stepped out into the hallway and shut the door behind him. As soon as the other man was out of sight, all of the tension seemed to leave his body as he crouched down, resting his elbows on his knees as he kneaded his forehead. He was unsure how long he stayed in that position, but he sighed as he closed his eyes to stop the angry, burning tears that were threatening to spill out.

**Author's Note**: Well, there you have it! Couple new characters introduced here that we will see again. Gotta have a little family drama in there to go along with everything else, I suppose. There weren't too many clues in this chapter, but along with everything that has been presented so far, it is nudging in the right direction. And at least Phil's okay... for now ;) Now, as to the little surprise I mentioned at the beginning, I'm taking my first little stab at a horror story. Yep. This will be my first time posting a purely scary story, haha. It won't be updated quite as regularly as this one because it's not completely done on my end, but it's also going to be shorter. So more or less, I'll be updating that one when I can. If the spirit of the holiday moves you, the story is called **Fear Itself** if you wanna swing by and check it out. It'll be a fun little story, that much I will say :) But for this story, thanks for reading! Your reviews are much appreciated. Thank you!


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing associated with the WWE. Just any OCs! And the lyrics to "Reality" belong to the talented David Bowie.

**Summary**: AU. "Never take anything for granted. For everything can be taken away in a heartbeat." When a brutal attack causes Phil Brooks to lose his memory, he struggles to not only piece his life back together and regain what was lost, but also to discover who still wants him dead.

**Author's Note**: Hey! Thanks for the reviews! Also if you found "Fear Itself" from this story, I'm glad you liked that one as well :) So, a bit of a head's up, this chapter's a bit longer than the ones we've had so far, but there's a lot going on here (yes, the used car dealership is included, lol). From this point forward, definitely keep a sharp eye out for clues because they will be a lot more frequent. I know I've said that before, but it will be even more prominent from now on. So, here we go! Enjoy and happy hunting! :)

_Chapter 11_

Scott found a place to park with relative ease, glancing in the rearview mirror and running his hand through his dark hair a couple times just to make sure he looked somewhat presentable after a long shift. Not that he really cared since the man he was visiting didn't. With a slight shake of his head at nothing in particular, the officer grabbed the bag he had picked up from the late-night Chinese place on his way over from the passenger seat before climbing out of the car, locking it up and crossing the dark parking lot.

When he neared the lit door of the apartment building, Scott noticed a couple people in dark sweatshirts lingering nearby, standing by the corner just out of the circle of light. They weren't speaking much, but he thought he felt their eyes on him intently. Brushing aside his nerves, Scott entered the four-digit code on the keypad to let himself into the building, instantly glad that his best friend had told it to him as he hurriedly climbed the stairs up to the third floor. He walked down the hall, humming quietly to himself until he came to the other man's door, knocking a couple times in a cheerful beat.

"Come in. Door's open."

Slightly concerned by the listless tone of the other man's voice, Scott pushed open the door and stepped inside, seeing that he was sitting cross-legged on the couch, his hands fidgeting slightly in his lap. "So, is it a good idea to keep your door unlocked this late at night, man?" he wondered jokingly, attempting to lighten the mood a little.

Phil, however, simply shrugged, not even looking in his direction. "It's really no big deal," he muttered.

Scott sighed quietly as he slipped his shoes off and left them near the door before walking further into the apartment. "So, I came with food," he said, holding the bag up for emphasis. "I figured you might be a bit bored since you're not coming into work for the next couple days."

Once again, Phil didn't look up as Scott approached. The latter set the bag on the low table in front of the couch, smiling slightly when his best friend finally turned to him. "Chinese." He chuckled quietly. "Don't worry. No meat."

Phil nodded once, a moment passing before he leaned forward and took a curious look inside the bag. He was hungrier than he cared to admit and was glad that since his best friend had felt the need to stop by, he had at least brought food with him.

"So, anything good on TV?" Scott wondered, sitting down on the couch next to the other man. He grabbed the remote from the low table in front of them and turned on the television, starting to flip through channels when all he found was infomercials.

"That's why I didn't have it on," Phil replied, a slight smirk appearing at the corner of his lips as he opened a small container of rice and added a couple packets of soy sauce to it before breaking apart a pair of chopsticks.

Scott sighed, a smile appearing on his own face as well as he glanced at the other man. "Yeah, I figured as much." The look faltered slightly as he sat up a bit to grab another container of rice and a couple packets of soy sauce. He glanced at his best friend, watching him eat in silence for a moment before he sighed. "All right, Phil, what's going on?"

Phil paused with his chopsticks halfway to his mouth. "Um, rice," he muttered, holding up the small clump he held before eating it.

"That's not what I meant and you know it." Scott finished pouring soy sauce into his container of rice before breaking apart a second pair of chopsticks.

"Does something have to be wrong?" Phil wondered, grabbing another clump of small white grains.

"Did I ask if anything was wrong?" Scott countered, a hint of triumph gleaming in his eyes.

Phil froze, lowering his gaze slightly as he set the small container on the low table in front of him. He ran a hand through his loose dark hair before rubbing his eyes beneath his thin glasses. Scott put the rice he had grabbed with his chopsticks in his mouth before setting his container down as well.

"What happened, Phil?"

A moment passed before the officer slowly turned to look at him, and Scott noticed with concern that he looked incredibly weary. "It's been at least... ten years..." he murmured to no one in particular.

"What, man?" Scott pressed quietly.

Phil rubbed his eyes once more. "Michael was here."

While waiting for his response, Scott had picked up his rice container and chopsticks again. However, the three words he heard nearly caused him to drop it. Phil noticed the action and attempted a smirk.

"You drop that on the floor and you pick it up, man..."

"Sorry." Scott quickly set the container back on the low table so he wouldn't spill it before he turned to look at Phil with disbelief. "But really? _Michael_? What did _he _want?"

Phil shrugged, casually grabbing another clump of rice with his chopsticks. "To talk," he said. "Claimed he wanted to make things right. But... he didn't stay."

Scott simply watched the other man for a long moment, knowing how difficult seeing his older brother must have been for him. He could tell there were things Phil wasn't telling him, but he knew better than to push him. Instead, he grabbed his container once more and took a couple bites of his own rice before turning to Phil once more. "Oh! As great as watching infomercials, eating Chinese, and talking about asshole brothers is, there is a reason I came here," he told him. "We got a bit of a lead on Michael Bolton."

The other officer quickly turned to look at him, all traces of his former weariness gone. "Really? What is it?" he wondered. "The sooner we can catch this guy, the better."

"Well, we haven't found him yet, but we traced the car itself to a used car dealership downtown," Scott explained as he added some more soy sauce to his rice. "Probably just got the car cheaply so he could do what he had to with it and get rid of it. Nick and I are gonna check it out in the morning, and I'll be bringing the kid with me."

Phil nodded thoughtfully. "It's a start," he muttered. "The owner will probably have some record of the transaction. Can get some information there." Then, a slight smirk appeared on his face. "How's Matt doing?"

"Fine." Scott grinned. "I'm almost afraid he's gonna end up overworking himself since he's trying so hard. Probably just wants to meet your approval."

"Well, I'll definitely give the kid credit," Phil replied. "He's a hard worker. I'm curious to see how he grows as he learns more."

"Yeah, me too."

The rest of the night was relatively uneventful, and Scott finally left close to two in the morning. Though the other man was his best friend, Phil was somewhat relieved that he was once again alone in his apartment. He threw away the garbage left over from their small late night snack before wandering into the bathroom, setting his glasses on the sink before splashing his face with cold water. He took a few deep breaths before straightening up, drying off his face before staring at his weary reflection in the mirror for a moment that seemed to stretch on for ages.

Michael... It had been so long since he had even thought about the other man. Why he had shown up at his door he had no idea, but something still wasn't sitting well with him about his sudden appearance. His brother had never been one to show up unannounced and not want something in the matter of finances. It was very unlike him, and it made him feel uneasy.

Phil finally made his way back into the living room, stretching out on his stomach on the couch. He sighed heavily, mindlessly watching the infomercials that were still on the television screen. For what felt like the hundredth time, he silently cursed the head injury he had sustained earlier that day. It wasn't nearly as sore as it had been, the pain was at least manageable, and he wasn't looking forward to the next couple of days off. It gave him too much time to think, which was something he did not want.

However, his exhaustion caught up with him quickly, and he wasn't even aware when he finally drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Barbara Blank closed out of her Facebook account, sighing as she rubbed her tired eyes. She rose to her feet as she picked up the empty water bottle and bag of pretzels she had been snacking on during her shift, tossing them both in the recycling bin before walking back to the main desk against the far wall of the lobby. She started packing up her math book, notebook, calculator, and pencils since Layla would be coming in to replace her within the next few minutes when the door of the station opened.

"Good morning, Darren," Barbara began automatically since the Chief was the only one who ever came in that early. But her eyes widened slightly when she looked up and didn't see the Englishman. "Oh, I'm sorry. What are you doing here? I thought you had a couple days off yet."

Cody Runnels shrugged slightly as he slowly took a couple steps closer to the desk. "I'm kinda bored sitting at home," he said with a quiet chuckle. "Lay's told me everything that's been going on, and though I can't do too much with _this_..." He held up his left arm, which was still supported by a sling, for emphasis. "I came to see if there was anything around the station I could do. Help out Lay, maybe. Something."

Barbara smiled slightly as she closed up her backpack, slipping on her lightweight sweatshirt before putting it over her shoulder. She turned to see Cody had stopped in front of the wall lined with pictures of men and women who had lost their lives in the line of duty, his blue-green eyes faltering slightly as they traveled over them. Adjusting her backpack to a more comfortable position, she slowly approached the officer.

"Did you know any of them?" she asked hesitantly, looking at the wall in front of them too.

Cody was silent for a moment before he nodded, pointing with his good arm to one of the officers in the fourth row. "My brother, Dustin," he answered quietly, causing Barbara to narrow her eyes slightly in concern. "Well, half-brother, actually. We both grew up with our dad, who was an officer himself. He was hardly ever home, but he somehow found the time to make sure he was there whenever we needed him. When I was in my first year of middle school, he was injured in a hold-up. Paralyzed from the waist down. I think that's when Dustin and I both knew that we wanted to do the same thing.

"Dustin made it first, and I always stayed home after school to take care of our dad. It was hard seeing how depressed he was a lot of the time since he wasn't able to do what he loved, and I was determined to continue it for him." Cody paused, lowering his gaze. "I'll never forget... It was my junior year of high school. I had stayed after school for the annual science fair. I won second place. I walked home with my best friend Ted since we didn't live far away from the school, and he came over every Tuesday and Thursday since his mom got off work late. But when we got there... there were three squad cars in the driveway. Chief Copeland was sitting in our living room with my dad, who was crying. He was holding a uniform and badge in his hands. Copeland took us into the kitchen, where he told us what happened. Drug bust gone wrong. Dustin was in the middle of it. He... he didn't make it to the hospital..."

Barbara's gaze faltered when she saw the thin line of tears that had formed in Cody's eyes, and she sighed as she reached out and lightly set her hand on his arm. "I'm sorry," she muttered, running her thumb lightly over his toned shoulder. "And I know that isn't enough to cover what happened, but..."

Cody just smiled slightly as he took a deep breath. "That was years ago," he said quietly, mainly to himself. "But everyday, I think about what could have been different had Dustin still been on the force when I made it. I constantly wonder if I can live up to the name my dad made, the name my brother made. I just want to make them proud."

"I think they would be," Barbara replied, the hint of a smile on her face mirroring the officer's. "You've done a lot of good things so far. And you're just getting started. They're proud of you, Cody."

A moment passed before Cody met the dispatcher's gaze, his small smile lingering as he blinked away his tears. "Thanks, Barbie."

Barbara smiled, standing on her toes as she leaned forward and left a light, quick kiss on his lips. Cody looked back at her with confusion, but he quickly turned to look over his shoulder when he heard someone clear their throat. He was surprised to see Layla looking back at them, her dark eyes narrowed as they rested on Barbara. He hadn't even heard the door open.

"Layla..." Cody began, but his sentence trailed off when his girlfriend turned on her heel and stormed out of the station. "Lay–!" But he sighed when the door closed behind her.

"I... I'm sorry..." Barbara murmured, lowering her gaze. She wasn't surprised when the officer didn't say anything in response.

Cody ran his good hand through his dark hair, moving his gaze back to the dispatcher. "I'll be back later," he said. "When Darren comes in, tell him I'll be here to help out."

Barbara simply nodded in response, slowly looking up in time to watch Cody hurry out of the station after the Englishwoman. She lightly traced her fingers over the creases in her forehead before adjusting her backpack to a more comfortable position on her shoulder as she slowly walked back to her desk. She took a seat in the chair with a sigh, twirling a strand of her light blonde hair around her thin finger as she waited for Layla to come back into the station so she could take over her shift. She hadn't known what had come over her in that moment, but she hadn't meant to kiss Cody like she had, and she certainly wouldn't have done it if she had known Layla was there. He had just seemed so hurt, so despondent, when he had talked about his family that she had done the first thing she could think of to offer some sort of comfort.

Of course, it had proven to be the wrong course of action. Barbara released the strand of hair before resting her forehead on her hand. Cody had been one of the people she had grown attached to after she had started working at the station three months before, and it was no secret that she had had a bit of a crush on him since, but she never thought that she would actually do something like that since she had always seen how happy he was with Layla. She just hoped she hadn't caused him to lose the woman she knew he loved.

* * *

"Lay! Wait up!"

Layla sighed when she heard her boyfriend's voice, but she didn't stop heading in the general direction of where she had parked her car toward the back of the lot. She knew she should turn around and go back to the station since she would be late for work otherwise, but she just couldn't bring herself to do so. She knew Cody had left the house early that morning, even before she had, since he had told her he wanted to stop by to see if there was anything he could help with around the station. But never had she imagined that she would find him kissing another woman, much less Barbara Blank.

Then, a hand lightly grabbed her wrist from behind, and Layla raised her hand as she quickly turned around. Whoever had stopped her seemed to know her intent to strike, though, since they lightly took her other wrist as well to prevent it. The Englishwoman felt a thin line of tears form in her eyes when she found herself looking back into the familiar blue-green eyes of Cody.

"Come on, Lay, please..." he began quietly, but his sentence trailed off when she shook her head.

"Don't do this to me, Cody," Layla muttered before she tried to pull her hands away.

But Cody kept his firm yet gentle grip on her wrists, keeping her close to him. "Layla, let me explain," he continued, moving his head back a little when she caught him off guard by another attempt to slap him. "It's not what it looked like!"

"No? _No_?" Layla stopped struggling against the officer, her dark eyes narrowing. "I should have known... Why else would you want to go to the station so early? You knew _she_ would still be there!"

Cody shook his head slightly, his gaze saddening when a single tear rolled down his girlfriend's cheek. "Lay, that's not true, and you know it," he told her. "Now if you would just listen–!"

However, he couldn't finish what he was going to say when Layla's hand suddenly connected sharply with his cheek. Cody looked down at her with shock, and the Englishwoman's shoulders shook slightly as a few more tears escaped from her eyes before she pulled her hands away from him.

"I have to go to work, Cody," she murmured after a moment, raising her hand to wipe some of her tears away. "I want to get started before Darren comes."

Cody simply nodded, all words failing him, and he watched as Layla took a deep, shuddering breath before she walked past him and hurried back toward the station. She didn't look back, though she was glad that he didn't follow her, and she was able to compose herself before she walked through the automatic doors. However, she paused when Barbara approached her.

"Layla, I'm sorry," she said, distress clear on her face. "I... I don't know what happened. But it's my fault. I kissed him. Cody didn't know that I was going to. Please don't be angry with him."

The dark-haired woman stared at the blonde for a long moment before looking away, feeling more tears threatening to make themselves known. "You can go now," she muttered, picking at her manicured nails. "Your shift's over."

Barbara opened her mouth to say something more but thought better of it at the last minute. Instead, she sighed as she adjusted her backpack on her shoulder, lowering her gaze as she slowly crossed the lobby and left the station.

Layla watched after the modeling student, waiting until the doors slid shut behind her before she took her place behind the desk. She set her purse down on the floor by her feet and briefly pulled her compact mirror out of it to make sure her eyeliner hadn't smeared before putting it back, taking another deep breath as she rested her elbows on the hard surface and covered her face in attempt to stop the tears that were now burning in her eyes.

It had been a long time since she had felt this vulnerable. She had only experienced it twice before in her life, once when her mother passed away from illness and once when she had learned her father had died in the line of duty. She loved Cody dearly, she still did, which was why the shock of seeing him being kissed by Barbara stung so badly. She was spoiled, Layla knew, for all of the gentle words he said and all of the loving kisses he gave had been reserved for her for the past four years. She knew she was probably being selfish, but she never wanted to share them with anyone else.

She hadn't been prepared to fall so hard for the dashing dark-haired officer what felt like so long ago, but she just hoped she wasn't a fool for not being willing to stand back up.

* * *

_"I've been right, and I've been wrong,_

_Now I'm back where I started from,_

_Never looked over reality's shoulder,_

_Ha, ha, ha, ha..."_

Scott proceeded to drum the steering wheel as he pulled away from a red light while Nick started to play a solo on his air guitar from the passenger seat next to him as they finished singing along with the radio. Matt sat in the back seat behind the former, raising an eyebrow as the two officers started to laugh as soon as the song ended.

"That was fun," Nick muttered, his smile lingering as he glanced behind him at the rookie. "Hey, you know that you can join in and have some fun too. You're not gonna get in trouble. It's not like we have to be strictly business all the time."

Matt was slightly startled at suddenly being addressed. "Um... yeah, I know..." he said quietly. "I just, uh... wasn't familiar with the song."

Scott chuckled quietly as he shook his head. "Then why did I hear you humming along back there?" he asked, for which Matt had no answer aside from slight color appearing in his cheeks. "Kid, it's okay. Relax a bit. Nick's right. We can have some fun sometimes. Remember, I was once Phil's rookie too. You'll soon see that you'll have to loosen up a bit if you wanna survive it."

A bit of a nervous laugh escaped from Matt as Scott then turned his attention to Nick beside him. "So where is this place?" he wondered. "Are we getting close?"

"Um..." Nick reached forward and grabbed a sheet of paper from the dashboard and unfolded it, raising his sunglasses to sit on top of his bleach blond hair. "Yeah, take a right in four blocks."

"Okie dokie."

The rest of the drive was pretty much silent before Scott finally pulled into the parking lot of the Auto Universe used car dealership. There were only a couple cars there besides the ones for sale, but since it was just barely past when the place opened, it wasn't surprising. Scott locked up the squad car as he stepped out, Nick and Matt following close behind. The rookie watched curiously as Nick slipped his gold wedding band off his ring finger and dropped it in his pocket.

"Why do you do that?" he asked.

Nick arched an eyebrow as he turned to Matt. "Oh, my ring?" He smiled slightly. "I don't like wearing it when I'm on a case since I don't want people we're after to know I'm married in case something goes wrong. It's never happened, but I just don't want to risk my wife's safety. And we know nothing about this guy that we're going to talk to now other than he sells used cars. Hell, he could be a total sleezeball for all we know."

Scott laughed from where he was walking ahead of them. "It wouldn't surprise me," he said. "Have you guys seen some of the prices on these cars? It should be a crime to sell 'em this cheap!"

Nick paused by a '90s Chevrolet and curiously leaned over to check the price on the front windshield. "Damn!" he exclaimed with a whistle. "I wish Icould have gotten _my_ first car that cheap. You're right, Scott, that is almost criminal."

"Right?" Scott then noticed that Matt had stopped to admire a red Firebird, and he chuckled quietly. "Come on, kid. We can look at the cars later. Let's just go talk to this guy."

"I need a new car," Matt muttered, mainly to himself. He noticed a slight smirk on Nick's face as he walked with the two officers inside the building.

It was a small but well-lit room with tall windows containing a simple computer desk on one side and three cushioned chairs against the opposite wall. A dark-haired man with a slightly round face and a few tattoos on his arms was sitting behind the desk, seeming to be making something out of paper as he hummed quietly to himself. But when the rusty bell above the door reluctantly jingled when the door opened, he quickly looked up.

"Oh, uh, why don't you gentlemen have a, uh, seat, over theres," he said in a heavy Italian accent, gesturing to the three chairs across from him. "Someones will be with you in a minutes."

"That's okay, we'd rather not," Nick replied, approaching the desk as he pulled out his badge. "I'm Officer Nemeth, and these are Officers Colton and Cardona." Scott pulled out his badge to show the man as well while Matt quickly fumbled to do the same. "We need to talk to the manager."

The man stiffened slightly. "Uh, on what business do you wish to speak of with _Signor_ Rodríguez?" he asked. "He's a very busy mans."

"That would depend," Scott answered, stepping forward to stand next to Nick. "Who are you?"

"Looks," the man muttered, swallowing nervously. "I don't know anythings. I'm Anthony Carelli. I'm simply the secretary for _Signor_ Rodríguez. Please, I know nothings. I... I just need to provide for my daughter. Sees, I'm making this for hers!" He shoved whatever he had been making out of paper in Nick's face, causing the startled officer to nearly drop it. At a closer look, he saw that it appeared to be a snake hand puppet.

"Please, don't arrests me..." Anthony continued to groan, wringing his hands nervously.

"Why would we arrest you?" Matt wondered with confusion.

Anthony turned to the rookie with wide eyes, but before he could say anything, the bell over the door once again sounded, signaling that someone else had entered the building. Nick turned to the door of the used car dealership, seeing another man with slightly longer black hair that was parted neatly down the middle and a slightly round face had entered wearing a casual suit.

"All right, Anthony. You can tell Alberto that..." The new arrival's sentence trailed off when he saw the three visitors. "May I help you, gentlemen?"

"Are you the manager of this place?" Scott asked.

The second man shook his head. "I'm the assistant manager, Ricardo," he answered, his accent as thick as Anthony's Italian one.

"Not good enough," Nick told him, crossing his arms across his chest. "Is this Alberto guy the manager?"

Ricardo hesitated for a moment before he nodded. "_Si_, yes."

"Get him." Scott's tone made it clear that there was no room for argument.

What appeared to be apprehension crossed Ricardo's face, but when he realized that he had no choice, he slowly walked behind Anthony's desk before approaching a door that said "management" in golden lettering. He knocked a couple times before opening it and sticking his head inside. Nick and Scott each raised an eyebrow at each other as they listened to what seemed to be a heated argument in quick Spanish, but they both straightened up when a third man wearing a gray suit entered the room with Ricardo. He was taller and a bit more slender than either of the other two men with dark, well-kept hair and dark eyes, and he stared at them intently as he straightened out the white scarf he wore around his neck.

"May I help you, gentlemen?" he asked, his tone formal but stiff.

Nick opened his mouth to answer, but Scott beat him to it. "Are you the manager?" he demanded angrily.

A slight smirk turned up the corner of the other man's lips as he turned to the fuming officer. "_Si_, I am Alberto Rodríguez–!"

But that was all the smooth-talking used car dealer had time to say before Scott stormed forward. "We need to talk."

However, Alberto rose his hands in front of him before Scott could get too close. "Whoa," he said, chuckling quietly. "I'm not saying a single word until I see a warrant..."

Scott made to grab the man, but Nick quickly reached forward and pulled him back. "Calm down," he hissed before he reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded sheet of paper and held it out to the manager. "Here's your warrant."

Alberto took it from him before unfolding it, glancing at the small font briefly before handing it back. "Very well," he muttered, glancing warily at Scott. "What do you wish to speak about?"

Once again, Scott beat Nick to the answer. "Michael Bolton."

The relief the used car dealer felt was clear on his face before he raised a questioning eyebrow. "Michael Bolton?" he repeated while Ricardo couldn't help but let out a quiet laugh. "You mean the singer? I'm sorry, but I really have no time to talk about something so trivial as music..."

Scott tried to pull free of Nick's grasp without success. "You know damn well what I mean," he murmured, venom in his tone.

Alberto's gaze flickered nervously, and he cleared his throat. "Very well," he said with a slight nod. "All of you, come to my office."

Nick watched as the manager turned and walked through the door he had come out of earlier before he turned his attention to Scott. "Look, I know that this is very personal to you because of what happened with Lynne," he muttered. "But you need to keep your cool. Do you hear me?"

A moment passed before Scott nodded as he pulled his arm out of Nick's hands. "Let's just get this over with."

The three police officers passed Ricardo and walked around the desk where Anthony had gone back to muttering to himself and making his paper snake hand puppet. "You son of a gun..." They followed the used car dealer into his office, a smaller room that contained a desk that was similar to the one in the lobby against the far wall with a filing cabinet in the corner, a couple of Alberto's framed awards hanging on the left wall. Matt looked around the room warily as he stepped in after Nick and Scott, closing the door behind him.

"So, what is this _really _about, gentlemen?" Alberto asked from where he was leaning against the desk, his arms crossed in front of him.

Nick gave Scott a warning look when the second officer tensed slightly before he stepped forward. "One of your customers, who we are assuming to be a man, who bought a Chevy Malibu from you within the last few months with this license plate," he answered, holding out a small slip of paper with the plate _A3L-24H_ on it. "We need to speak with him. Do you have records of all your transactions?"

Alberto reached out and snatched the slip of paper from him, glancing it over. "_Si_, of course I do," he replied somewhat irritably. "What kind of businessman do you think I am? But unfortunately, I don't remember every plate that I have ever sold." He held the slip of paper back out to the officer.

A quiet chuckle escaped from Nick as he took it back. "Well, fortunately for you, the name this car is registered to is one Michael Bolton," he told him. "You seemed to know that name back in the lobby. Can't be a hard one to forget."

"So, what are you asking me?" Alberto moved his gaze from Nick to Scott and Matt and back. "The name is not easily forgettable, certainly, but I don't remember the man."

"But you said you have the records," Matt reminded him.

Alberto narrowed his eyes slightly at the rookie. "_Si_," he confirmed. "I don't know what you want with this Michael Bolton, but as you see behind me, I have an awful lot of files to go through..."

The used car dealer's sentence trailed off as Scott pushed past Nick and approached him, leaning forward so that he was only a couple inches away from his face. "Then I suggest you start looking," he said quietly, ignoring how uncomfortable Alberto was. "Because I need the address he gave you."

* * *

Ted Dibiase, Jr. smiled slightly as he leaned back in his seat, taking a cautious sip of his still hot coffee. "So, the sling comes off on Wednesday?" he asked.

Cody nodded in silent answer to his best friend from middle school's question. The two men had decided to meet for lunch at a diner near the police station since the officer still wasn't technically on duty for two days yet and the other man was on his break. "I can't wait," he answered, absently stirring a couple of the ice cubes in his water glass with his good hand. "It's frustrating just sitting at home. I go back in Thursday, but I'll go back to the station and help out with what I can after this." He paused for a moment before looking up at Ted. "So, how's everything with the bank? I heard about what happened this weekend."

"Well, not good, but it could have been worse," Ted said with a sigh. "There wasn't much taken in the robbery, which I'm confused about. I've talked with my security staff, and we still have no clue what these men could have wanted. The amount they took was so minimal it was almost an afterthought or even a mockery. The footage was no help either. They turned off all the indoor cameras but left the outdoor ones on so they could see everyone else. But that officer the men wanted to talk to that was injured... Brooks, I think his name was... How's he doing?"

"Phil? He's doing fine. He'll be back in on Wednesday." Cody looked at the other man for a long moment, knowing how important the bank was to him. Having been born into a rich family, Ted had inherited it from his father, Ted Dibiase, Sr., and he wanted to prove he could run it as successfully as he had.

Ted took another sip of his coffee before looking back at Cody. "So, have you thought about how you were gonna try and talk to Lay?" he wondered casually.

Cody sighed. "Not yet," he muttered, glad he had told his best friend the situation with his girlfriend in the text he had sent him to set up lunch. "She's furious, man. Won't even listen."

"Hmm." Ted leaned forward on the table slightly. "Just give her some time to cool down. Even though I know you didn't kiss this other girl, you gotta think about how it looked from her point of view. I'd just hate to see you lose her over something like this."

The officer, however, didn't even appear to be completely listening. "I mean, I know this other girl likes me and all, but I never thought she would..." His sentence trailed off before he sighed. "Ted, I've never felt this way about anyone. If Lay won't..." He paused again. "And to think, I was gonna ask her to marry me."

Ted's eyebrows shot up. "Wait, hold on," he said. "You're gonna propose to her?"

"I was," Cody replied with a slight shrug. "Who knows what'll happen now."

"Don't think like that, Cody," Ted told him firmly. "My wife and I have had plenty of arguments in the past. Still do. You love this girl, I know you do, so don't give up on her yet. Lay's pretty hot-headed, we both know this. Just give her some time, and I don't think the ring will go to waste."

Cody glanced at the gold wedding band on his best friend's left ring finger before meeting his gaze. A slight smile appeared on his face as he took a sip of his water before chewing on one of the ice cubes. "Thanks, man."

After a quick lunch, Ted had to return to the bank to take care of some business that still lingered after the robbery, and Cody drove back to the police station. He found a spot to park and shut his car off, but instead of heading toward the building, he stayed sitting behind the wheel. Layla would be the first person he saw when he walked inside, he knew, and he wasn't sure how angry she still was.

Finally, he took a deep, resigned breath, and Cody locked up his car before crossing the lot and walking through the automatic doors. Layla was sitting behind the desk, phone at her ear as she spoke soothingly to a panicked caller.

"Yes, one of our officers will be there immediately. Thank you. Bye." She chuckled quietly as she hung up the phone. "His daughter's cat is stuck in a tree. He's acting like it's the end of the world..." However, her sentence trailed off when she saw Cody had been the one to enter the station.

Cody gave her a small smile. "Those cats can be quite the troublemakers," he muttered.

Layla looked back at him for a long moment, lowering her gaze as she brushed a dark strand of hair that had fallen loose from her ponytail behind her ear. Cody slowly took a couple steps closer to her but stopped when she rose to her feet. He watched as she walked around the desk, not flinching when she raised her hand slightly as she stopped in front of him.

However, the Englishwoman lightly traced the same cheek she had slapped earlier before standing on her toes and meeting his lips in a quick kiss. "Isn't that better than some Barbie doll?" she asked quietly with a smile.

Cody chuckled, winding his right arm around her shoulders and pulling her into an embrace. "Lay, I'm sorry," he muttered, running the fingers of his healing left hand up and down her arm. "I didn't mean..."

Then, he was interrupted by his girlfriend setting a finger on his lips. "I know," she told him seriously. "Barbie told me."

"Okay. Might as well not repeat it, then." Cody's smile returned, a look which Layla returned before he began to lean down to kiss her once more.

But he stopped when they heard someone clear their throat. Cody quickly looked up while Layla turned over her shoulder, both slightly embarrassed to see Darren watching them with an arched eyebrow.

"Well, whenever the timing is convenien' for you, Cody, I have some office things you can do since you wan' to help out," the Chief said, a slight smirk appearing at the corner of his lips before he turned and disappeared through the door out of the lobby.

Layla chuckled quietly as she turned back to her boyfriend. "Well, I'd better get back to work," she muttered. "Have fun, Cody."

Cody smiled, giving Layla a quick kiss before she walked back to her desk. "See you later, Lay," he replied, crossing the lobby and leaving through the same door Darren had left through.

The Englishwoman continued to smile to herself as she lowered herself into her seat once more. She pulled a small bag of chips and a water bottle out of her purse and set them on the desk next to her, her dark eyes moving to the wall of officers who had lost their lives to her left. Her gaze saddened when it passed over Dustin Runnles, and though she had never met him herself, she felt like she had gotten to know him well through Cody and his father.

Layla's gaze darkened even more when they landed on the last addition, Chris Irvine. He was the only one on the memorial wall that she had known personally, and it was a loss that had devastated the entire force. Chris was a man everyone had known in one way or another, his small acts of kindness and contagious smile dearly missed. It was almost six years to the day when he had lost his life when an assignment he had taken on with his rookie went wrong, and she knew it was going to be a difficult time for them all.

She just hoped that she would never have to see another face she knew so well on the same wall.

**Author's Note**: So, there you have it! Cody and Layla are getting back to being okay, there were a couple new characters introduced here (most of which we'll see again as the story progresses), and we're learning more about our already important ones. The used car dealership gives us a starting point, and in the next chapter, we'll find out what happens to Phil ;) Of course, this will not give us all the answers (we have a lot to get through before we get there), so, if you have any clues/theories, feel free to mention them! Thanks for reading, guys! Your reviews are much appreciated. Thanks!


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing associated with the WWE. Just any OCs!

**Summary**: AU. "Never take anything for granted. For everything can be taken away in a heartbeat." When a brutal attack causes Phil Brooks to lose his memory, he struggles to not only piece his life back together and regain what was lost, but also to discover who still wants him dead.

**Author's Note**: All righty, so, here we are with another update! This is the chapter that I think you guys have been waiting for, which is where we find out what happened to Phil (gotta admit I kinda feel bad now after meeting the guy :P Haha!). But, we'll see what happened to get Phil into the situation that he was in in chapter one. Clues have been there about who's behind things, but if not all of them were caught, it's okay. We still have a long way to go before the answer is revealed, and more clues will definitely be presented to you. So, enjoy and happy hunting :)

**Warning**: The last section of this chapter contains more violence than we've seen so far. Nothing too graphic, but it's still there. Just throwing that out there now, lol.

_Chapter 12_

_Wednesday, 8:00 AM_

Phil had never been so thankful to walk through the automatic doors of the police station. He smiled slightly at Layla, who gave him a friendly wave back, before he pushed open the door that led to the back offices. He walked down the narrow hall past a few open doors until he came to the one that belonged to him, turning on the light and taking a seat behind his desk. He cracked a couple of his knuckles before logging into his computer, raising his hazel eyes from the screen when the door opened again.

"Hey, you're back!" Trent Barreta said with a smile, shutting the door behind him before crossing the room and setting his bottle of Mountain Dew on his desk across from the other officer's.

"Yep," Phil replied as he leaned back in his seat. "And it's good to be back."

Trent's smile lingered as he sat down behind his computer. Phil watched him for a moment before he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket when he felt it vibrate. A smile appeared on his own face when he saw Kofi's name on the screen.

_If we meet Sat, I might be a little late. Business meeting._

The officer quickly sent his response back. _It's fine. I'll have to see how Sat goes myself._

Kofi's answer came quickly. _Ok, man. Talk to u soon!_

Phil slipped his cell phone back into his pocket just as a knock was heard at the door. It opened a moment later to reveal Darren, Matt Cardona following close behind. "So, Phil, I'm gonna have the two of you start off easy today," the Chief said. "I'd like you to patrol this morning. I know it's no' your favorite, but we haven' gotten any emergency calls ye' today, and we still have people on these leads with the incidents involving your mother."

Sighing, Phil rose to his feet, but a small smile appeared on his face as he turned to his rookie. In truth, he was just relieved to be back at work so he could put the events of the past couple days out of his mind. "All right, kid, you ready?" he asked.

Matt nodded earnestly, and Phil chuckled quietly as he approached him and Darren. He glanced briefly at the Chief when he patted him on the shoulder before beginning to walk down the hallway with Matt close beside him. "So, I see you survived working with Scott for a couple days," he said.

"Yeah, it was definitely different," Matt replied with a slight laugh. "He and Nick are gonna keep looking into this Michael Bolton guy. And the used car dealership. Something's up with that place."

Phil nodded once, remembering Scott updating him that something was suspicious about the car dealership, before a slight smirk appeared at the corner of his lips. "How can you say that with a straight face?" he wondered.

Matt just shrugged as he watched his mentor pull the keys to his squad car out of his pocket as they entered the lobby. "So, am I ever gonna get to drive?"

"Hmm." Phil's smirk broadened as he glanced at his rookie when they passed through the automatic doors and stepped out into the cool morning air. "We'll have to see."

* * *

_Wednesday, 10:30 AM_

Phil pulled away from the Starbucks' drive-thru after having a brief but friendly conversation with Kevin Kiley, setting his tea in the cup-holder nearest him while Matt unwrapped his strawberry croissant. "Little stops like this is the best part of patrolling," he admitted quietly, a slight smile on his face as he came to a stop at a red light.

Matt returned the look as he took a bite of his croissant. "Agreed," he said. "Especially since I haven't eaten anything yet today."

His mentor laughed as he drummed the steering wheel a tad impatiently while waiting for the light to change. "Well, they say breakfast is the most important meal of the day," he replied. "Not that I really eat much breakfast either..."

"And you're supposed to be setting a good example for me," Matt joked as he leaned forward and turned up the radio a little bit when the commercial for dog food finally ended.

"Hey, now." Phil arched an eyebrow as he turned to his rookie. "I'm supposed to set an example for you in matters of policing, not personal habits." Matt laughed, and the other officer sighed as he turned ahead of him again. "What is taking this damn light so long?"

Then, both Phil and Matt looked up in time to see a car speed down the intersecting road in front of them just as the light turned yellow. "They had to be going at least forty over," the latter muttered to himself.

"Yeah, no kidding." Phil reached forward to turn on the siren, but before he could, he and Matt both lurched forward when another car bumped into them from behind. "You have _got_ to be kidding me..."

Matt watched as Phil picked up the squad car radio and called in the speeding car to any other officers who were out on patrol in the area, receiving a quick answer from Trent Baretta, before he stepped out of the car. He then followed his mentor to face the car that had hit them, watching as he first checked on the damage done to their own vehicle as well as for broken glass around them.

"Not too bad," Phil murmured, running his hand over the couple dents in the back bumper before he rose to his feet and turned to the powder blue car behind them, which had sustained a little more damage in the minor accident. The driver stepped out soon after, and he felt his stomach tighten.

"I'm so sorry about that," Eve Torres said as she hurried over to Phil and Matt. "It's my fault. I... I didn't see you guys..."

Phil's jaw remained set tightly as he crossed his arms. "You're right, Eve, it is your fault," he agreed. "You'll soon be getting a call from the station's insurance place, I'm sure. And a ticket as well."

Eve's eyes widened slightly as the officer turned on his heel and walked back toward the squad car to write down his information for her and grab a fresh ticket. She went after him, grabbing onto his arm. "Wait, Phil," she muttered frantically. "Let's talk about this. There must be another way."

The Latina was slightly surprised when Phil actually stopped and turned to face her. "Hmm, another way than me doing my job? Nice try, Eve, but no."

"Come on, Phil. My car is more damaged than yours!" Eve continued to try to persuade him. "If you're just doing this because you're my ex..."

Phil laughed, causing her to stop. "You really think that's the reason, Eve?" he asked. "If so, then that's just pathetic. Now if you excuse me, I have a job to do."

Eve sighed and let go of his arm, and she pursed her lips slightly and crossed her arms as Phil opened the driver's door. She then turned to look at Matt, who was waiting by his door, and smiled slightly as she gave him a quick wink when he met her gaze. The look broadened when she saw the slight color that graced his cheeks.

But then, Eve quickly looked away from him when someone cleared their throat impatiently, and she watched as Phil held out the ticket he had written in front of him with a tad of frustration. "I need your insurance information," he stated formally.

Rolling her eyes, Eve took the ticket from his hand along with the station insurance information and turned to walk back to her own car to write down hers. Matt watched after her, his eyes remaining on her as she quickly jotted down what the officers needed to know. She then stepped out from behind the wheel, but instead of giving the small slip of paper to Phil, she handed it to the rookie.

"There you go," she said, a smile lingering at the corner of her lips. "I'll be expecting a call."

"And you'll be getting one," Phil told her irritably before the other officer could reply. "Matt, get in the car."

Matt shook his head slightly and blinked a couple times at his mentor's words, holding onto the paper she had given him as he opened his door while Phil climbed back in behind the wheel. However, he glanced back at Eve once more, watching as she gave him another quick wink before he sank down into his own seat and shut the door.

"So, you used to... date her?" he asked as Phil began to drive away when the light turned green, remembering what the woman had said about his mentor being her ex.

Phil sighed as he kept his eyes on the road ahead of them. "Yeah, for two years," he answered quietly. "I ended the relationship after... after my mentor was killed. I didn't want to be involved with anyone. But she's been harassing me ever since. Just can't get over it, I guess. It's been six years, so you'd think that she'd get the point and move on." He paused, glancing at Matt. "Don't think of getting involved with her. Too much trouble."

Matt felt slight color rise to his cheeks once more before he handed the sheet of paper she had given him after the minor crash over to Phil. The other officer rolled his eyes in annoyance when he saw the small heart Eve had drawn next to her cell phone number and dropped the sheet on the dashboard.

A few minutes of uncomfortable silence passed between the two officers while Phil drove before Matt finally glanced over at the tattooed man. "How... how was your mentor killed?" he wondered quietly.

The only answer he got was more silence.

* * *

_Wednesday, 1:20 PM_

"Ah, there you are, man!" Scott said with a smile as Phil and Matt sat down at the same table that he, Nick, and Cody were sitting at toward the back of the Wendy's they had previously agreed to meet at. "Most of your lunch is gone!"

Phil chuckled quietly as he set his tray down on the table and began to unwrap his fish sandwich. "Yeah, well we had to bring our car back to the station to get it looked at and get a new one," he replied while Matt nodded his agreement. "We got rear-ended, but thankfully the damage isn't too bad."

"Seriously?" Nick asked as he raised an eyebrow and took a quick sip of his soda. "Who the hell rear-ends a police officer?"

"Eve Torres," Phil answered with a slight smirk. "Tried to flirt her way out of trouble too."

Cody rolled his eyes with annoyance. "Why am I not surprised?" he muttered, opening another ketchup pack for his French fries.

"I just can't wrap my mind around the fact that she's _still_ bothering you," Scott added with a slight shake of his head. "That's what I call one psycho bitch."

This comment elicited a laugh out of Phil, who nodded as he raised an eyebrow. "I think I'll agree with you on that one, Scotty."

Nick took a bite of his chicken sandwich, but his eyes narrowed slightly when he noticed that Matt was staying rather quiet, and he couldn't help but wonder if something was bothering the younger man. But he didn't have much time to dwell on it when Phil reached over and lightly hit Cody's left shoulder.

"Must feel good to get that sling off, huh?" he said.

Cody chuckled, quickly raising his left arm in the air before lowering it again. "You have no idea how great it felt walking into the hospital this morning," he replied with a smile. "Normally I'd never say that, but it's great to have my arm back. And I can't wait to come back to work tomorrow."

"And I can't wait to have you back, partner," Nick told him with a smile. "Though I'll admit it hasn't been too boring without you. We'll have to check out what's going on at a used car dealership for Scott while he focuses more on finding Bolton. So, you already have your work cut out for you!"

The other officer's smile lingered. "Can't wait."

"Just tired of being Darren's secretary, huh?" Phil wondered jokingly, taking a sip of his iced tea.

"You mean Darren's bitch," Scott murmured, causing the rest of the table to laugh.

Cody chuckled a little too. "Don't get me wrong, it was better than sitting restlessly at home. But yes, I'm looking forward to getting back out in the field."

"I hear ya on that one," Phil muttered in agreement.

Nick smirked, dipping one of his French fries into his vanilla Frosty before turning his attention to Cody. "So, with all that time at home, did you think of a way to propose yet?" he asked, a mischievous glint in his light eye.

Cody nearly dropped his soda at the question. "Um, well..."

However, he didn't get too much further when Scott leaned forward on the table. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, back up!" he interrupted. "Hold everything! Did you just say what I thought you said, Nick?"

"You're gonna propose to Layla?" Phil added, his gaze on Cody while Matt watched with interest.

Slight color appeared in Cody's cheeks. "Well, cat's out of the bag now," he murmured, causing Nick to smirk. "But yes, I am."

"Congrats, man!" Scott said with a laugh while Phil nodded. "When did you decide to do this? Do you have the ring yet?"

"Thanks." Cody smiled slightly. "I've been thinking about it for a long time. And yeah, I got it a few days ago."

"Well, good, I'm happy for ya, man," Phil told him. "Make sure to keep us updated, okay?"

Cody nodded, picking up another fry. "I will, man. Thanks."

Phil smiled as he leaned back in his seat, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket when he felt it vibrate. This time, the text was from Mike.

_Are u guys meeting Sat?_

The officer quickly typed in his answer. _I expect to see u there, Mizanin._

He chuckled quietly when the response came back. _Fine, Brooks. Let me know when and where!_

_Will do when I know myself. _Phil slipped his phone back into his pocket after he sent the text, stretching his back out slightly.

Scott smiled as he looked at the other officers. This was his favorite time of the lunches that they had together. "All right, hypothetical question time," he stated, and the other men groaned, except for Matt, who really had no idea what was about to happen. "Uh, Phil. You first."

The officer in question glanced at his best friend. "Fire away," he said, stirring his iced tea a little.

"Hmm." Scott looked thoughtful for a moment before he chuckled. "Say the five of us are dealing with a psychopath. Who would you take a bullet for?"

Phil raised an eyebrow. "That's kinda depressing," he replied.

Scott shrugged. "That's why it's hypothetical!"

The dark-haired officer chuckled slightly as he leaned forward on the table. "Well, not you because you asked the stupid question," he mused, smirking when Scott gave him a look of mock hurt. "I'm kinda obligated to do so for my rookie, so Matt's lucky. Nick... well, you have a pregnant wife, so I guess I'd do it for you. And Cody... only on a good day."

Then, Phil started laughing along with the rest of the group when Cody threw an ice cube from his soda at him. He was definitely glad to be back.

But, the fun festivities of that day's lunch soon began to wind down after everyone else said who they would take a bullet for, Scott being the only one saying no one while Matt didn't quite know what to say. "Well, I suppose it's almost that time, huh, guys?" Phil said with a sigh.

Nick pulled out his phone to check the time. "So it would seem," he muttered. "Back to the ol' grind."

"Yep," Cody agreed as he rose to his feet and picked up his tray while the rest of the group did the same. "I'll see you guys tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow," Phil agreed before he and Matt walked away from the table and threw their trash away.

"So... can I drive yet?" Matt asked with a slight smile as he and his mentor left the fast food restaurant.

Phil smiled as he unlocked their squad car, chuckling quietly as he climbed in behind the wheel. "We'll see, kid," he answered as his rookie slid into his seat beside him. "We'll see."

* * *

_Wednesday, 6:15 PM_

"So, how'd everything go today?" Darren asked as he looked up from his desk. "Besides tha' minor accident, tha' is."

"Not bad," Phil answered with a slight shrug from where he stood leaning against the open doorway. "About as good as patrolling can go, anyway."

The Chief chuckled quietly as he rose to his feet. "You really don' like patrolling, do you?" he wondered.

"Honestly? No," Phil told him, crossing his arms. "I get that it's especially important with a rookie to help learn the ropes and everything, I did that a lot with Scott too, but I prefer other things."

"You've always been tha' way," Darren muttered with a fond smile. "Always wanting to be ou' on the front line." He paused for a moment, leaning over slightly to check the files on his desk he had been going over before the other officer had come into the room. "Well, Sco' is still doing well with the domestic disturbance incidents, and I have Nick and Cody investigating tha' used car dealership. Bu' don' worry. I should be able to find something for you and Matthew tomorrow."

"Thanks, Darren," Phil said with a slight smile himself. "I appreciate it."

"Yeah, yeah." Darren chuckled quietly as he looked back at the other officer. "Now, there's something I want' to go over with you, bu' since tonight's the night you always spend with your family, we won' worry abou' i' now. It's nothing bad, so don' worry abou' tha'. I just wan' you to be aware tha' we'll have to find a time to talk."

The younger man arched an eyebrow. "Are you sure?" he wondered. "I mean, if it won't take long, I don't mind..."

However, his sentence trailed off when Darren raised a hand. "I'll see you tomorrow, Phil," he said.

Phil looked at him curiously for a moment before he nodded. "See you tomorrow," he agreed.

Darren smiled slightly as he watched Phil leave his office before glancing down at the sheet of paper on the bottom of the pile he had previously been going over, his gaze passing over the application for the assistant Chief of Police position.

Humming quietly to himself, Phil walked down the narrow hallway until he reached the lobby, waving to the Englishwoman behind the front desk. "Have a good night, Lay."

"You too, Phil," Layla replied with a smile. "See you tomorrow."

The officer nodded, his smile lingering as he stepped out into the cool evening air, the automatic doors slowly sliding shut behind him.

* * *

_Wednesday, 7:05 PM_

_See u on Sat, man!_

Phil smiled slightly as he sent a smiley face in return to the text he had received from Bryan while he had been driving, wondering where the old gang would be meeting that weekend. He slipped his cell phone in his pocket as he rang the doorbell of his mother's house, noticing that the living room window had been replaced before the door opened a few mere seconds later. A broad smile appeared on his face when he was greeted by a dark-haired woman who had similar features to him.

"Hey, Nat, good to see you!" he said, pulling his twin sister into his arms.

Natalie Brooks hugged him tightly, chuckling a little. "Yeah, it's about time, you punk," she replied, pulling back to look at him. "It's been too long, oh crazy brother of mine."

Phil nodded his agreement, glad to see her after their lunch plans fell through during his couple days off. "You've been behaving, I hope," he muttered as he stepped inside and slipped his shoes off.

"Nah, what fun would that be?" Natalie wondered as she followed him into the living room.

The officer smirked as he glanced back at her. "That's my girl."

The twins entered the kitchen, and Phil's smirk melted into a smile when he saw his nephew sitting in a high chair at the kitchen table, eating some sort of baby food being fed to him by Cheline, who had her back to them. Parker, however, started to bounce excitedly when he saw them.

"'il! 'lie!"

"Hey, little buddy," Phil said, reaching out and ruffling his nephew's light baby hair. He chuckled quietly when the small child made a sound of content as he grabbed his finger.

"How's my favorite nephew doing?" Natalie wondered, leaning down and kissing his chubbier cheek, which caused him to laugh. "Eating well for Mommy?" Parker released the officer's finger as he turned his attention fully to his aunt, reaching his small hands out to play with a loose strand of her black hair.

Cheline smiled at her older siblings as she rose to her feet. "Hey, there you are, Phil," she muttered, passing the container of crushed peas to Natalie to keep giving to Parker.

Phil pulled his sister into his arms when she wound hers around him. "Good to see ya, Chel," he replied. "Sorry we couldn't meet for lunch."

"That's all right. At least we get to see you now." She glanced back at Natalie, who continued to talk to Parker, making him laugh, as she fed him before turning back to her brother. "Has... has Michael talked to you at all? I know it's hard for you to talk about, Phil, but we have to see why he's here."

"Yeah, he stopped by my apartment a couple nights ago, but he didn't stay long," he told her, his gaze darkening slightly. "Though I'm not buying what he's been saying so far."

Cheline sighed, brushing some brown hair out of her face. "Don't you think it's time to try to put all of this aside?" she asked. "To try to make peace?"

"Only if he proves to me that's truly what he wants," Phil answered stubbornly.

"Well, we'll be meeting him tomorrow for lunch," Cheline stated, leaning on the chair nearest her. "Why don't you join us? That way, we can all be there."

Phil shrugged slightly. "I'll have to see how my work schedule is."

Cheline opened her mouth to reply, but she instead turned over her shoulder when she heard approaching footsteps. Phil raised his hazel eyes away from his sister, and a smile appeared on his face when he saw a familiar petite woman had entered the kitchen.

"Hey, Mom."

"Good, I'm glad you're here, Phil," Lynne said, hugging her son for a moment before hurrying over to the oven to turn it off. "Because you're just in time for supper."

* * *

_Wednesday, 11:03 PM_

Phil ran a hand through his loose dark hair as he drove down the dark road, turning up the radio a little bit when a song he recognized broke through the speakers. Cheline had left with Parker a couple of hours before since she had to get him to bed, and he had spent time playing games with his mother and twin before he had left himself so he could relax a little before having to get ready for work the next morning. Natalie was going to stay with Lynne for a while longer, and he had promised to give them a call when he got home.

He came to a stop at a red light, rubbing his weary eyes as he leaned back in his seat. The officer had to wonder what kind of assignment from Darren he and his rookie would get the next day, as well as what the Chief wanted to talk to him about, but he knew that anything would be better than patrolling.

The light turned green, not taking too long since there wasn't too much traffic. Phil turned onto an almost empty street that would bring him to his apartment, but as he passed the brightly-lit bar on the corner known as Dead Man's Tavern, he slowed his car slightly when what appeared to be a disturbance caught his eye. Looking closer, he saw there were a few clearly drunk men arguing loudly outside the door, all with bottles in their hands and a couple with cigarettes in their mouths.

For a moment, Phil put his car in park as he debated about trying to settle them down. But, he reasoned, he was off duty and didn't even have his gun, and there were plenty of people still on duty who could take care of it if it proved to be a problem.

Phil pulled out his cell phone to make a call to the station, but before he could dial the number, the driver's window suddenly shattered. He covered his head to protect himself from broken glass just as the door was unlocked and pulled open. The officer didn't have much time to react when his seatbelt was ripped off, but he held back a cry when his right knee twisted slightly when it got caught in the belt as he was pulled out of the car, his phone dropping from his hand.

Instinct alone caused him to throw his hands out in attempt to block his fall as he was tossed to the hard asphalt, and he winced when he felt his knees and palms get scraped up a little from the impact. Phil quickly glanced over his shoulder, seeing his assailants were two men wearing dark sweaters with hoods to conceal their faces. He quickly looked ahead of him again, reaching out with his left hand to grab a decent sized rock to defend himself with.

However, his fingertips merely brushed against it when a black boot came heavily down on his hand, and this time, the officer couldn't hold back a shout of pain when he felt the bones in a couple of his fingers snap under the weight. _"You won't be needing that, Phil," _a familiar electronic voice said quietly from behind him.

Phil felt dread flood through him, and even though the voice itself came from some sort of device, he recognized it immediately. He had seen these two men before. The officer slowly began to turn to face them again, only to be met with a heavy fist colliding with the side of his face that sent him back to the ground. Before he could fully recover from the impact, a couple kicks landed on his torso, and Phil rolled onto his side in attempt to escape from them. He wrapped his arms around his abdomen and closed his eyes tightly when it continued to burn, and he wouldn't have been surprised if a rib or two had cracked under the pressure.

However, he knew he couldn't give up so easily, and Phil lunged his foot out angrily at his assailants. He smiled slightly with satisfaction when it connected with one of the men's knees, causing him to drop momentarily, but he was rewarded by a foot of the other man connecting with the side of his head. He lay on the hard ground for a moment to catch his breath, able to taste some blood in his mouth, as he waited for the pain to subside slightly before he attempted to push himself to an upright position.

_"You just won't quit, will you, Phil?" _the man who had spoken first muttered, shaking his head slightly as he reached into the pocket of his hooded sweatshirt. _"You never have. Here. Maybe this will finally teach you to just lie still for once and keep your nose out of business that does not concern you."_

There was something about the ominous tone of the other man's voice that made Phil uneasy, but he still pushed himself to a crouching position, wavering slightly on his bad knee before glaring up at the two men. However, his eyes widened fearfully when he saw a small handgun in the shorter one's black gloved hand aimed directly at him, and he didn't have time to react before it went off, the sound muffled slightly due to a silencer.

For a moment, the pain didn't even register. But then, a cry ripped from Phil's throat when an intense, burning sensation began to radiate from the spot in his right side where the bullet had entered his body as he collapsed to the ground.

A quiet laugh reached his ears before the same gun then connected with the side of his head, nearly causing him to lose his already loose grasp on his consciousness. _"It's been a pleasure, Phil," _the man muttered, leaning down close to his ear. _"I would say we'd see you again, but I don't think that'll be the case."_

Phil didn't even have the strength to resist as each man grabbed one of his arms and dragged him over to the sidewalk. They carelessly tossed him down near a closed shop, and a quiet whimper escaped from the officer's throat when he landed hard against the side of the brick building. He couldn't even open his eyes as he listened to the men's retreating footsteps shortly followed by the louder sound of squealing tires that soon disappeared into the distance. He wasn't sure how much time passed, though he knew it couldn't have been long, before the pulsating pain in his side finally claimed the last of his consciousness.

**Author's Note**: Well, we have quite a bit presented to us here, including some important details that definitely shouldn't be overlooked. But, as I said, we have a long way to go yet before we get to the answer of who is behind everything. So keep an eye out! Thanks for reading! Your reviews are much appreciated. Thank you!


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing associated with the WWE. Just any OCs!

**Summary**: AU. "Never take anything for granted. For everything can be taken away in a heartbeat." When a brutal attack causes Phil Brooks to lose his memory, he struggles to not only piece his life back together and regain what was lost, but also to discover who still wants him dead.

**Author's Note**: Thanks for the reviews! Now we know what happened to Phil in the beginning of chapter one. But now, we just have to see who is responsible and why. As always, keep an eye out for clues since they will be there for you. Enjoy and happy hunting! :) And if you celebrate it, I hope you have a happy Thanksgiving!

_Chapter 13_

Scott awoke with a start when he felt a small hand on his leg. He blinked rapidly a few times before he rubbed his tired eyes, sighing when he realized that he had dozed off on the couch in the living room in front of the television. The off duty officer checked the time on his laptop, which was still sitting on his lap, and saw that it was nearly eleven-thirty.

He then looked to his right, surprised to see the small form looking back at him. "Briar?" Scott mumbled through a yawn. "What are you doing up so late, girl? Mom will kill you if she finds out."

A worried look appeared on his seven-year-old adopted sister's face as she climbed up on the couch to sit next to him, holding a teddy bear she had had since she was an infant close to her. "I can't sleep," Briar said, her dark eyes wide. "Read me a story?"

Scott raised an eyebrow as he looked down at the girl, but a smile soon replaced it. "All right, kiddo. Just one story," he told her. "But then you have to go to bed. Deal?"

Briar returned the smile as she nodded, jumping off the couch again. Scott set his laptop aside and stretched as he rose to his feet, following after her as she hurried up the stairs. He stood in her doorway and watched as she jumped onto her bed, crawling under her pink sheets before looking at him expectantly. Scott chuckled as he entered the room and sat down on the edge of the bed, turning on the heart-shaped lamp sitting on the small table next to the bed before picking up the book of fairy tales that was resting beside it.

"All right, so where were we..." Scott only got about halfway through the story about a girl who lived with her mother in an enchanted forest before Briar was sound asleep, however, and he quietly shut the book and set it back down before slowly rising to his feet. He leaned over and gently made sure she was covered before leaving a light kiss on the side of her head, smiling slightly when she snuggled into her pillow and pulled her teddy bear close to her in her sleep. The officer then turned off the light next to her before crossing the room, glancing back at her one more time before he quietly shut the door behind him.

Scott slumped down on the couch once he reached the living room again, stretching once more before he picked up his laptop. He had only logged into his email account, however, when his cell phone began to ring from the small table next to the couch. He absently reached over and grabbed it, but his eyes narrowed slightly when he saw the name flashing on the screen. Wondering why she would be calling him so late, he flipped open the phone and brought it to his ear.

"Hello?"

_"Hi, Scott," _the quiet voice of Lynne Brooks said from the other end. _"It's not too late to call, is it?"_

"No, not at all, Lynne," Scott assured her, turning down the volume on the television a little. "What can I do for ya?"

Lynne sighed. _"I'm wondering if you've heard from Phil," _she explained. _"He left here about a half hour ago, and he said he'd call when he got home, but he hasn't yet. I tried calling him, but I haven't gotten an answer. Normally it wouldn't be a big deal since I know how he can be sometimes, but Natalie has a bad feeling, and I admit it's making me a tad uneasy."_

Scott frowned slightly. He knew how his best friend could go through stages where he wouldn't answer his phone, but usually, the one person he would always answer for was his mother. And if his twin sister was unsettled, maybe something wasn't quite right. "No, I haven't heard from him," he replied. "Tell ya what. I'll try giving him a call and see what happens. If I don't get an answer, I'll head over."

He was almost sure he heard a sigh of relief from the woman on the other end. _"Thanks, Scott," _Lynne muttered. _"Let me know how everything goes."_

"I will," Scott told her as he set his laptop aside and got to his feet again. "Talk to you soon."

_"Yep."_

Scott ended the call with Lynne, pacing the living room a little as he found Phil's number on speed dial and brought the phone to his ear. However, he was immediately met with his voicemail, and he sighed and slipped the phone in his pocket. Beginning to have an uneasy feeling in his own stomach, the officer grabbed his lightweight sweater from the closet and slipped it on before grabbing a pair of tennis shoes, hurrying out the front door.

_"Hey, this is Phil. Leave a message, and..."_

Scott sighed with frustration as he tossed his cell phone to the passenger seat next to him when he once again only got his best friend's voicemail as he drove in the direction of his apartment. He was relieved that he lived only a few blocks away from him as he came to a stop at a red light, and the bad feeling he had back at his house was only continuing to grow as he absently drummed the steering wheel and waited for the light to change.

The green light was a welcoming sight when it finally changed, and Scott drove through the almost deserted intersection. He noticed Dead Man's Tavern on the corner was as busy as it usually was, but then he gasped quietly when he ran over something on the dark street.

"What the hell?" Scott put his car in park and took off his seatbelt before he stepped out, shutting the door before he crouched down to see what it was he had hit and to check his tire. When he saw that he hadn't sustained a flat, he started to look for what it was that he had run over. His eyes narrowed slightly in confusion when he saw it was a now broken cell phone, and his stomach tightened slightly when it looked somewhat familiar.

Then, Scott quickly looked over his shoulder, startled slightly when he heard loud laughter behind him. He took a deep breath of relief when he saw it was only a couple of drunk women leaving the bar, and his gaze passed over another man, seemingly drunk and passed out leaning against the wall of a closed shop nearby as he turned back to the remains of the phone he held.

But then, his heart nearly stopped as he did a double take at the motionless figure, and the broken pieces dropped from his hand as he ran across the street to who he now recognized to be his best friend leaning back against the brick wall of the building. He dropped to one knee next to him, scanning over his closed eyes and pale face hidden beneath his hanging dark hair with mounting fear as he hesitantly reached out and set two fingers lightly against the side of his neck. He sighed with relief and hung his head for a moment when he felt a pulse under his fingertips. It was weak, but at least it was still there.

"Oh, God. Phil..." Scott's eyes ran over the other man's broken body, taking in his bruised face, the oddly angled fingers on his left hand, the bloodied right knee, and the large crimson stain on the front of his shirt. At first glance, it appeared as though he wasn't even breathing.

"What happened to you?" Scott whispered as he pulled out his cell phone. This would explain why he hadn't been answering his calls. But what had happened, he had no idea, and that terrified him. He then placed one hand securely behind the other man's neck and began to carefully lift his upper body away from the hard, unforgiving bricks of the building behind him, but he paused when Phil unconsciously made a quiet pained sound. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

Knowing that he couldn't leave him between himself and the building and the latter wasn't the best option, Scott gingerly continued to move the other man, who occasionally whimpered at the motion, until his head was resting a bit more comfortably on his shoulder, relieved when he felt his best friend relax once more. He quickly dialed 9-1-1, knowing he would have to call Lynne afterward. He would have brought Phil to the hospital himself, but he didn't want to risk moving him any more than he had to in case of causing him more harm. His anxiety rose when he felt the other man's body start to tremble slightly, and he feared what could happen should he slip into shock.

_"9-1-1, what's your emergency?"_

"I... I need an ambulance immediately," Scott said, his voice cracking slightly as he held Phil securely against him. "My best friend... I don't know what happened, but he..." His sentence trailed off, and he silently cursed when he was unable to finish.

There was a moment of stunned silence on the other end. _"Scott?!"_

"_Barbie_?" Scott had momentarily forgotten that the young modeling student would be the one to answer his call, for which he inwardly kicked himself. "Barbie, listen to me. It's Phil. He's... I don't know, but he's in terrible shape. We need an ambulance. Please, Barbie. Send one as fast as you can... He... he could be dying, Barbie, please..." Once again, his sentence trailed off as a thin line of tears formed in his eyes.

_"O-okay, Scott, just stay calm. I-I'll send one right away," _Barbara told him, attempting to quell her own fear along with the other man's. _"B-but I need to know where you are, okay?"_

Scott quickly glanced around and read off a couple nearby street signs at the intersection of Dead Man's Tavern to tell Barbie where he and Phil now sat on the dark, empty sidewalk. He hardly heard her assurance that an ambulance would be on the way as he shakily ended the call and slipped the phone back in his pocket, turning his attention back to his best friend. He had never seen Phil look so weak and vulnerable, even when they were children. Their shared never-show-fear attitudes had caused them numerous injuries over the years, but never had he seen him this way, and it terrified him.

"Hang in there, Phil," he said, attempting to blink away his tears while he tightened his hold on him slightly as the other man's body continued to shake.

Then, another quiet, pained groan escaped from Phil's throat before his glazed hazel eyes slowly fluttered open. It took him a moment to register that he was no longer alone wherever he was, and he raised his gaze up to the person's face with more effort than it should have required. Scott's own eyes faltered with worry, but he tried to hide it with a hopefully reassuring smile.

"It'll be okay, Phil," he told him, his tone wavering. "Just hold on. Stay with me, okay? Barbie sent an ambulance. It'll be here soon."

Phil was silent for a long moment, simply staring at Scott's face as though studying it. He started to open his mouth to say something, but before he could, his eyes slowly closed again.

"Hey," Scott muttered, lightly shaking the other man's shoulder. "Phil, you need to stay strong. You need to keep fighting. Okay? Stay with me, Phil. Open your eyes, man."

However, he got no response out of Phil, and Scott felt himself nearly lose the battle against the tears that threatened to fall. Instead, he carefully pulled the other man closer to him, attempting to stop his slight shaking, as he watched anxiously for the promised help that Barbara had sent.

"Hold on, Phil..."

* * *

Darren took a deep breath and turned onto his side on his bed when his cell phone began to ring, the shrill sound breaking through his racing thoughts. When it rang a second time, he propped himself up on one arm and glanced over his shoulder at his wife, Christina, to make sure she was still sleeping before he reached out and picked it up from the nightstand. He couldn't quite read the name on the screen as he squinted against the bright light, but he figured it would be an important call at such a late hour, so he flipped it open and brought it to his ear as he laid back down on his pillow.

"Hello?"

_"Chief... Chief Matthews? It's Ba-Barbara..."_

Darren slowly opened his eyes when he heard the slight tremor in the night dispatcher's voice. "Yes, wha' is i', sunshine?" he asked, a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach causing him to sit up.

_"It... it's Phil..."_

* * *

"Sorry it took so long for me to get over here. You know how it can be at the fire station. Always on call."

"That's all right, man. We're still up." Nick smiled as he led Jake Hager, his best friend since they had both been on the wrestling team in high school, into the living room. "I appreciate you bringing this stuff over. I'm just in the middle of putting the crib together since it can be any day now... And I have another one to put up after this one too..."

Jake smiled slightly as they made their way into the kitchen, carrying a large white plastic bag over his shoulder. "Yeah, I remember those days well," he muttered while the other man opened the refrigerator and grabbed two cans of beer. "It's exciting!"

Nick chuckled as he handed one of the cans to Jake. "Yeah, well I'm incredibly nervous," he admitted, opening his beer and taking a quick sip. "I've never been more nervous about anything, actually."

"Ah, you'll be all right, man," Jake told him, patting the shorter man on the back. "Soon, it'll all be worth it. You'll see."

The officer smiled, but before he could say anything in response, both he and Jake watched as Charity entered the kitchen. "Hey, Jake, I thought I heard your voice," she said with a smile, hugging him quickly. "Good to see you."

"Yeah, you too," Jake replied when she pulled away. Then, he reached out with his free hand and set it lightly on her rounder stomach. "Anytime now, huh, little guys?"

"They're certainly taking their sweet time," Nick added with a quick wink at his wife. "Wish they'd get a move on already."

Charity rolled her eyes at the two men and lightly smacked her husband's arm before placing her hand on her stomach herself. "Yeah, well you'll probably get your wish sooner than later, honey," she muttered with a slight wince before she sat down at the kitchen table. "Are you almost done with the crib? We do have another one we have to do now..."

Nick nodded as he approached the table. "Yeah, it'll be done tonight," he told her, leaning down and giving her a quick but loving kiss. "And then we'll go through the stuff Jake brought over."

"Okay, sounds good." Charity smiled up at her husband, grasping his hand for a moment and giving it a short squeeze before letting go. She laughed a little when Jake ruffled her light hair before he and Nick left the kitchen with their drinks, closing her eyes and resting her chin on her hand as soon as they were out of sight.

"So, you said you guys saw Ryan last night?" Jake wondered as he followed Nick through the living room before they took the staircase that would bring them to the second story.

"Yeah, he came over for dinner last night with his girlfriend," Nick confirmed, a slight smile appearing on his face at the thought of his younger brother. "He's doing well."

While growing up, his closest friend had been Ryan, who was also someone he had always watched out for. It had been shortly after Nick graduated from high school that his brother had been involved in a car accident with a drunk driver that had claimed the life of their uncle. Ryan himself had sustained substantial injuries, and aside from lingering ailments in his left leg, he had never fully recovered the ability to speak. It had been that moment Nick had decided to attend the Chicago Police Academy instead of the university that he had earned a full scholarship for so he could try to prevent the same thing from happening to anyone else.

"That's good, I'm glad to hear that," Jake said as they walked down the hallway once they reached the top of the stairs. "He's a good kid."

Nick nodded in agreement as they passed a few closed doors until they came to an open one near the end, and Jake smiled when he saw the half-constructed crib in the middle of the room. "Good job, man."

The officer chuckled, taking a quick sip of his beer before setting it on the dresser against the wall. "Hey, I just got started like a half hour ago. Give me some credit," he muttered, gesturing to a large box on the other side of the room. "Not looking forward to having to do another one either..."

Jake laughed as he set his beer on the opposite side of the dresser before leaving the large bag on the floor in front of it, joining Nick where he knelt in front of the crib. "Don't worry, I had to do the same thing," he told him. "Well, not two of them, but you know what I mean."

Nick briefly glanced up at his best friend from the small instruction booklet before reading it over again. "So, what's all in the bag?" he asked as he grabbed the tool and parts of the crib he needed next.

"Some toys and other items my son grew out of," Jake answered. "There are a few stuffed animals in there, a couple blankets. I think a mobile you can hang above one of the cribs. I'm not exactly sure what all Catalina put in there."

"Well, I can't wait to go through it all," Nick said, starting to connect the third wall of the crib to the rest of the frame. However, he didn't get very far when his cell phone began to ring from his back pocket. He quickly pulled it out with his free hand, frowning slightly when he saw Darren's name flashing on the screen, and answered the call as Jake held up the wall for him.

"Yeah, Chief?"

His eyes darkened, however, when he heard the worried tone of the other officer's voice. _"Nick, we need to talk."_

* * *

Cody sat on the bed in the room he shared with Layla, absently watching the television across from him. Mackenzie was curled up on top of the covers next to him, her head resting on his leg as he scratched behind her ears. The officer then looked down at the puppy, smiling slightly as she looked up and met his gaze curiously.

"What do you think, girl?" he asked quietly as she licked his fingers a couple times. "Do you wanna help me ask Mama an important question?" Ever since Nick had revealed his plans to propose to Layla over lunch earlier that day, Cody had been trying to think of a special way to ask her to be his wife. But so far, nothing he had come up with really seemed to fit the woman he loved. And as much as he wanted it to be special, he also wanted it to be memorable.

"Is that a yes?" he pressed with a slight chuckle. However, Mackenzie only whimpered quietly before she stood up and climbed onto his lap with a yawn. Cody knew that his girlfriend loved the black lab as much as she would a child, so what better way to present the ring to her than through her beloved dog? "Hmm. Maybe we could attach it to your collar..."

"Cody, what are you talking to my puppy about?"

Not expecting the sudden voice, Cody quickly looked up to see Layla standing in the doorway, having changed into her tank top and shorts for sleeping and holding a steaming mug of tea in her hands. "Well, um..."

Layla chuckled quietly as she looked back at him, crouching down when Mackenzie jumped off the bed and scurried over to her. She picked the small puppy up into one arm as she straightened back up. "Come on, Cody. How bad could it be?" she pressed. "What'd you and Mackenzie wanna ask me?"

Cody stared at his girlfriend of four years for a long moment before he sighed heavily. He had been envisioning how he would propose to the woman he loved for a long time, but never had he thought it would be this way. Not this sudden. But not able to think of another question that would satisfy her curiosity, he slowly stood from the bed and walked to his dresser, pulling open the bottom drawer and digging around until his fingers brushed against the small box that contained the life-changing ring. Keeping it hidden in his hand, Cody rose to his feet and turned to face the Englishwoman, seeing her dark eyes on him expectantly.

"Lay, I can't believe how lucky of a guy I am for having met you," he muttered as he slowly walked toward her. "Much less have been able to call you mine for these past four years."

Layla hardly felt Mackenzie lick her cheek as she looked back at Cody with confusion. "Cody, what are you talking about?" she wondered with a chuckle.

"Just hear me out, Lay," Cody said as he stopped in front of her, reaching out with his free hand and brushing a couple strands of hair behind her ear. "Seriously, I mean what I said. I consider myself the luckiest guy in the world. And these years I've shared with you have been some of the best of my life."

The Englishwoman looked back at him, narrowing her eyes slightly as she tried to figure out what her boyfriend was saying. "Cody..."

But her sentence trailed off when the officer set his finger lightly on her lips. Layla met his gaze, and her eyes widened slightly as Cody slowly dropped to one knee on the floor in front of her. "Layla..."

However, he was interrupted by his cell phone ringing from his pocket. Cody looked at his girlfriend's shocked expression and considered finishing the proposal then, but he sighed in defeat and pulled his phone out when it rang a second time. His gaze darkened slightly when he saw Darren's name flashing on the screen, and he quickly answered it.

"What is it, Chief?"

His stomach tightened nervously at the sound of Darren's faltering tone. _"Cody, you need to ge' to the hospital as soon as you can. It's Phil."_

* * *

Matt pushed opened the door of the Fuze, making his way through the crowded building in search of the long-time friend he had made plans to meet with that night. The bar was crowded for a Wednesday night, much more crowded than he had expected, and he frowned slightly when he didn't see the other man sitting at any of the tables.

But then, he chuckled quietly to himself when he saw the man in question, his chin-length blond hair tied back behind his head, sitting at the bar itself, a half-filled drink sitting on the counter in front of him as he talked to a couple of dark-haired women sitting on two stools on his right. Matt made his way over, his smile broadening as he took a seat on the stool on his left in time to catch the tail end of one of the many stories he always told.

"So then I told him that if he didn't like it, then screw him. There are other record companies in Chicago, ya know what I mean, ladies?"

The two women giggled quietly while Matt just rolled his eyes. "Oh, yeah, Curt. Like you'd say that to your clients," he muttered.

Curt Hawkins turned to look over his shoulder, raising his dark sunglasses to sit on top of his head when he saw Matt. "Hey, hey, there you are, man!" he said, a broad grin appearing on his scruff-lined face as he fully turned around to face him. Both men raised their fists and pounded them together before giving each other a one-armed hug. "About time!"

Matt chuckledas he watched the first friend he had made when he moved to Chicago in the fifth grade turn back to the two women he had been talking to. Curt had been popular with the girls even then, and he had always been fully aware of it. He remembered back to their high school prom when he had two dates, and that was before he had even arrived.

"I'm sorry to cut this short, ladies, but I'm afraid I have a prior engagement," Curt told them, and Matt thought he saw a look of genuine disappointment cross their faces. "But, if you ever find yourselves in need of my services, here's my card." He held up two small business cards with his name and the name and address of his record company printed neatly on them, quickly raising his eyebrows as they each took one. They turned and made to leave, but they both gasped with surprise when they were blocked by a tall, bulky man with a full beard and his long hair done in dreadlocks that hung past his shoulders.

"Yo, Reks!" Curt called, raising a ringed hand in exasperation. "It's all right, man!"

Matt looked at the intimidating figure with wide eyes, watching as he stared down at the two women for a minute longer before stepping aside and allowing them to scurry past. "Reks?" he wondered quietly, turning to his best friend.

"My bodyguard," Curt clarified, sighing as he watched the women hurriedly leave the bar before noticing Matt's disbelieved expression. "Hey, it's rough out there now, man. Even on the indie scene. I've gotta watch my back. But one day, man. One day, I'm gonna be a major player. You'll see." He then turned back to the man he had hired to protect him. "Hey, Reks. Why don't you just chill and get yourself a drink or something, man? You can put it on my tab."

Reks nodded once as he sat down on a stool that one of the women had previously occupied on Curt's right. Matt slowly let out a deep breath, still eyeing the enormous man nervously. Curt, however, just chuckled. "So, enough about me for now," he said. "How about you? Heard you started out on the police force finally."

"Yeah!" Matt replied, a smile appearing on his face. "I'm loving it so far. My mentor's great, and I'm learning a lot. People keep telling me he's one of the best on the force."

Curt nodded as he took a sip of his drink. "Well, that's lucky for you then," he muttered. "I know it's something you've wanted to do since you were a kid."

Matt nodded himself, his smile lingering. Curt chuckled quietly as he waved to one of the bartenders who was somewhat close to them. "Hey, can I get a drink for my friend here?" he called.

"Oh, dude. You wouldn't believe what happened today," Matt suddenly said, hitting the other man's arm.

"What?" Curt wondered, finishing off his drink.

"My mentor and I got into this minor car accident with this chick."

Curt raised a questioning eyebrow. "Was she hot?" he asked.

Matt laughed as he nodded, a grin spreading across his face. "Dude, you'd better believe it," he answered. "Smoking hot. And get this. She's my mentor's ex-girlfriend."

"Really?" Curt chuckled quietly. "Nice, man, nice. Think you'll see her again?"

"Not sure," Matt admitted. "But..."

Curt glanced over at his best friend when his sentence trailed off. "But what?"

However, Matt didn't answer. His eyes had widened and were glued to the bartender as she approached them. "What can I get for you guys?" she wondered, brushing some of her dark hair over her shoulder.

"I'll take another Budweiser," Curt told her, straightening out his low-cut, v-neck shirt slightly.

The bartender smiled when he gave her a quick wink before she turned her attention to Matt. She raised her eyebrows in recognition. "Oh! Imagine seeing you here, rookie."

Matt chuckled quietly as he looked back at Eve Torres, unable to tear his eyes away from her. "Uh... yeah..." Curt rolled his eyes at the pathetic display.

Eve smirked. "What can I get ya?" she asked quietly.

"Um..." Matt's eyes traveled over the low-cut sports jersey and athletic booty shorts she was wearing before he glanced at the bar behind her. "Uh, just what my friend's having, thanks."

"All right. Two Buds, coming right up." Eve leaned down on the counter in front of the rookie, a slight smirk appearing on her face. "When you see Phil next, tell him I'll pay that ticket as soon as I can. Can you do that for me?"

Matt chuckled quietly as he raised his eyes up to hers. "Um, yeah, of course," he muttered.

"Thank you." Eve smiled slightly as she ran her fingers lightly across his cheek before she walked away to get their drinks. Matt found himself still staring at her, only brought out of his reverie by a hand hitting his arm.

"Dude, close your mouth. You look like a frog waiting to catch flies for lunch," Curt said, shaking his head slightly as Matt quickly did as he was told. "But _that's _the chick who ran into you today?"

Matt nodded, feeling slight color rise to his cheeks when Eve sent him a quick wink. "Yeah..."

Curt shook his head slightly. "Man, she's out of your league," he muttered.

The rookie turned to his best friend, but before he could think of a suitable comeback, he felt his phone start to vibrate from his pocket. He quickly pulled it out, confused when he saw Darren's name flashing on the screen, and Matt plugged one ear to try to block out the loud music as he brought his phone to the other.

"Hello?"

His eyes narrowed slightly when he heard the heavy tone of the Chief's voice.

_"Matthew, I have some bad news for you, lad."_

* * *

Scott sat on the hard bench in the back of the ambulance as it sped down the busy street, the nearly deafening sound of the blaring siren sounding strangely distant. His hands were folded tightly together, his lips pressed against his white knuckles as he simply stared at Phil lying on the stretcher before him in shock. He hadn't opened his eyes again since the ambulance had arrived, and his bruised face was pale against the oxygen mask that had been placed over his mouth and nose to enable him to get sufficient air into his lungs. The medics worked tirelessly around them to sustain him until they could reach the hospital where more could be done, having cut open his shirt to better attempt to slow the blood flow from what had been determined to be a gunshot wound in his side.

"Get me a fresh towel."

Scott's gaze flickered slightly at the sudden order, and he watched as the medic nearest him exchanged the bloodstained towel he had been pressing down on Phil's side with for a clean one before looking back at his best friend's blank face. The pressure on the critical injury didn't even elicit a response out of him, which concerned him.

Suddenly, a quiet but rapid beeping sound filled the ambulance, and Scott felt fear flood through him as the few medics that were there all rushed to Phil. "What's going on?" he asked, his voice cracking slightly as he leaned to the side to try to see the other man. "Is he okay?"

However, his questions were ignored as the medics continued to tend to the officer. They made sure the oxygen mask was secure over his face before turning their attention to the gunshot wound. "His bp is dropping," the officer heard one of them say before he frantically placed two fingers on the side of Phil's neck to check for his pulse. "Rapidly."

"What's that mean?" Scott pressed as he got to his feet. "What's happening?"

But Scott was stopped from getting any closer by the medic nearest to him. "Please, Sir, you need to remain seated–!"

"No!" Scott interrupted, ignoring the man's restraining hands on his arm. "I need to... Phil–!"

However, Scott was finally forced to sit back down by two medics, and he was only able to watch helplessly as they tended to Phil. Tears began to rapidly fill his eyes as the quick beeping echoed tauntingly in his ears, signaling that his best friend's life was slipping away.

Scott didn't even notice when the ambulance stopped when it finally reached the hospital. He didn't hear the doors open as a couple more medics stepped inside to help lower the stretcher down to the ones waiting on the ground outside. He got one more glimpse of Phil's pale, blank face before he was quickly but carefully pulled out of the ambulance, immediately starting to be rushed toward the hospital. Scott continued to sit where he was, his body refusing to work under the shock he was in.

This couldn't be happening... He still had to be sitting dozed off on the couch in his living room... Briar had never woken him up... He had never found Phil half-dead on the dark sidewalk... His best friend wasn't dying...

Then, Scott slowly looked up when he felt a gentle gloved hand land lightly on his knee, and he found himself looking into the familiar concerned face of Jason Reso. "Come and sit inside, Scott," the medic said quietly with a small, sad smile. "We'll do everything we can for him, I promise you that."

Scott nodded slightly but still didn't move. "He's my best friend, Jay..." he muttered.

Jay's gaze faltered as he nodded, tightening his hold on his knee. "I know," he told him. "He's always been a fighter, you know that. We'll do what we can. But it would be better for you to come inside now. Get something to eat."

The officer sighed heavily as he nodded once more. "I'll be right there," he assured him.

"All right." Jay smiled slightly, patting his knee once in an encouraging way before removing his hand and running toward the hospital. Scott remained sitting, however, and he put his head in his hands as the tears that had been burning in his eyes finally escaped.

**Author's Note**: So, there isn't too much as far as clues here, but we have a couple new characters that'll end up popping up again. But the clues will be there, so keep an eye out! Thanks for reading! Your reviews are much appreciated. Thank you!


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing associated with the WWE. Just any OCs!

**Summary**: AU. "Never take anything for granted. For everything can be taken away in a heartbeat." When a brutal attack causes Phil Brooks to lose his memory, he struggles to not only piece his life back together and regain what was lost, but also to discover who still wants him dead.

**Author's Note**: Hey, thanks for the reviews! Glad you guys are liking this story! So, this chapter was inspired by a special feature on Punk's DVD, at least as far as medical diagnosis goes. That's where this information comes from. And, as always, clues will be there for you as we continue, so always keep a sharp eye open as we go on. With that said, enjoy and happy hunting! :)

_Chapter 14_

Darren stepped through the automatic doors of the hospital, his eyes immediately landing on Scott sitting in the far corner of the waiting room. Hints of shock lingered on his paler face, and his red-rimmed eyes were resting on nothing in particular. With a heavy sigh, the Chief crossed the room and sat in the chair beside him, not too surprised when he didn't get any response.

"Sco'," he said quietly, gently resting his hand on the other officer's arm.

A long moment passed before Scott finally raised his gaze to meet the older man's eyes. Darren's gaze saddened when he saw the clear despair in his damp eyes. "Have you heard anything from the doctors?" he asked, somewhat hesitantly.

However, Scott simply shook his head as he looked away again, and Darren sighed as he tightened his hand on his arm in a hopefully comforting way. "It'll be all right, lad," he muttered, hoping that his assurance would prove true. "You'll see." He wasn't surprised to get no response from the other man.

The doors of the hospital slid open again, and Nick hurried through, concern in his eyes as he anxiously looked around the waiting room. Finally spotting the other officers, he rushed over, sitting in a chair on Scott's other side. "What happened?" he wondered, almost afraid to know the answer since he could see Scott was clearly in shock.

Darren took a deep breath as he turned to another one of his officers. "Barbara informed me tha' Sco' called in an ambulance for Phil," he explained heavily. "I'm afraid I don' know much more other than his condition was no' good."

"I... I don't know what happened myself..." Scott murmured in a voice so quiet it was hardly above a whisper. "I just... found him like that... He was just sitting there... I thought he was..." His sentence choked off with fresh tears that threatened to fall, and he closed his eyes as the Chief tightened his hold on his arm.

"He's in critical condition..." he finished once he slightly regained his composure.

Nick's face paled slightly, and he looked up in time to watch as Cody entered through the hospital's automatic doors, his hand wrapped tightly around Layla's. He rose to his feet as his partner approached him, seeing identical worried expressions on the couple's faces.

"Is Phil okay?" Cody asked immediately while his girlfriend sat in the chair Nick had vacated to attempt to console Scott. "Or..."

"Unfortunately, I don't know," Nick answered, his gaze saddening. "We don't even know what happened... But we've had no news on his condition."

Cody sighed heavily, brushing a hand through his dark hair as he lowered his head. "Oh, God..." He raised his gaze again when Nick reached out and placed a sturdy hand on his arm, giving him a small, grateful smile.

The doors of the hospital slid open once more, and Matt slowly entered the waiting room. He spotted the group of despondent officers and hesitantly made his way over. "I... I got here as soon as I could..." he muttered, his gaze resting first on the Chief.

Darren looked up at the young rookie. "I'm afraid to say Phil's in critical condition," he told him quietly. "We have no' heard anything else, so I don' know the specifics. We're hoping to hear something soon."

Matt stared at the Englishman with wide eyes as he slowly sank into a chair across from them. "Critical condition?" he repeated, his voice cracking slightly. He hadn't known Phil nearly as long as everyone else present, but in the short time he had known his mentor, he had become a man he had complete respect for. He couldn't imagine being someone else's rookie.

Darren nodded sadly before he turned his attention to Scott, who had put a hand to his head. "Go and ea' something, lad," he said, gently shaking his arm.

Scott quickly looked up at the Chief, slightly startled. "Oh, Sir, I don't think I could right now..." he began, but his sentence trailed off when Darren raised an eyebrow.

"I am _not_ asking you, Sco'," the older man told him firmly but kindly.

The officer opened his mouth to argue but found that he couldn't. Instead, he simply lowered his gaze and hung his head again. Layla met Darren's gaze and nodded, wrapping an arm around Scott's back.

"Come on, we'll both go, Scott," she said soothingly, starting to try to help him to his feet. However, even though he nodded in response, Scott wouldn't move.

Cody and Nick both moved forward when Layla glanced in their direction, and between the three of them, they got Scott to his feet. Darren let go of the officer's arm, sighing as he watched him be led away in the direction of the cafeteria by his coworkers.

"Let us know when you hear anything about Phil, Chief," Nick said, glancing over his shoulder. "Regardless of... what it is..."

"I will," Darren assured him with a slight nod. He then turned to Matt, who was sitting silently across from him, when they were out of sight. The Chief leaned forward slightly.

"What's on your mind, lad?"

Matt slowly looked up to meet his gaze. "Is Phil going to be okay?" he wondered.

Darren's gaze faltered as he leaned back in his chair again. "I hope so, Matthew," he murmured. Then, a slight smile turned up the corner of his lips. "Phil's always been a fighter. If anyone can pull through whatever happened, it's him."

The young rookie merely nodded in response, and Darren sighed. "Now, I'm no' sure wha' I'll have you do starting tomorrow," he mused, mainly to himself but loud enough for the other man to hear him. "Cody's back in the field with Nick, and I'm no' sure if I'll pu' you with Sco' since I don' know if he'll be able to come in ye'. We'll have to see. Perhaps I'll pu' you and Tren' on something. Or I'll have you do some things around the station until... _until_ Phil recovers."

Matt glanced at the Chief once more when he heard his voice catch slightly on the word "until." The outlook on Phil's condition must have truly been grim if Darren nearly admitted the fear that must have been on everyone's minds, but at least he was clinging to that slight hope that he had the strength to pull through.

Then, Darren looked up when a petite, dark-haired woman entered the hospital, and his gaze saddened as Lynne Brooks anxiously looked around the waiting room. The Chief had called her himself since he assumed that Scott had been unable to, only to find that she truly had not known what had befallen her son.

Lynne spotted the Englishman when he rose to his feet, and she hurried over to him. "Darren, please," she whispered when he wound his arms around her in a hopefully comforting manner. "Please tell me Phil's okay..."

Darren's gaze fell as he looked down at her. "I... I'm afraid I don' know, Lynne," he said quietly. "But from wha' I've been told, he's in critical condition..."

"You _don't know_?" Lynne repeated, her voice rising as she looked up at him with fear. "What do you mean you _don't know_?" She smacked his chest hard before tears rapidly filled her eyes and started to fall, dropping her head as she allowed the Chief to pull her closer to him. "Oh, Phil..."

Matt watched the scene in front of him sadly, realizing that the distraught woman Darren was now trying to console must have been his mentor's mother. He sighed as he slowly rose to his feet, struggling to think of something that he could say to her to offer some sort of comfort, but nothing came to mind. Instead, he felt a thin line of tears appear in his own eyes as he turned and hurried out of the hospital.

"This isn't happening... Darren, please..."

Darren sighed, wishing he could tell Lynne that it was not Phil who was in the hospital in critical condition, but no matter how much he wanted to say otherwise, he could not. Instead, he tightened his arms around her, rubbing his hand over her tense back. "Come, Lynne, let's have a sea'," he muttered.

Lynne nodded in agreement, but before she and the Chief could reach the chairs the officers had previously been sitting in, the door behind the front desk opened as Jay stepped into the waiting room. "Darren," he called, his face blank.

The Englishman glanced down at Lynne, who nodded with determination, and he felt her take his arm in her smaller hands as he led her over to where the medic was standing. "Give us the news, Jay," he said, hoping his tone remained steady.

Jay's gaze saddened slightly when it landed on Lynne before he moved his eyes up to Darren. "The surgery was successful," he told them with a sigh. "The bullet's been removed, and–!"

"The... the bulle'?" Darren repeated, his voice faltering slightly as he interrupted the other man, Lynne's face paling drastically from beside him. "He was sho'?"

"Yes." Jay hesitated slightly. "We had to remove it from his lower right side. However, Phil was very fortunate. It came close, but it didn't strike any major organs."

"Thank God," Darren muttered, tightening his arm around Lynne when he felt her lean against him more.

Jay sighed heavily. "He lost a lot of blood, and it was at a critical level when he arrived here. But the good news about that is we were able to prevent him from slipping completely into shock, and there are indications that show he will recover from that," he continued. "A few of the more minor injuries he sustained are a couple broken fingers on his left hand, his right knee has been twisted, he has bruising on his face and torso, and a couple of his ribs are slightly cracked."

Lynne couldn't completely hold back a sob as she closed her eyes tightly, relieved for the support she was getting from the Chief. It was clear her son had been attacked, but who would do such a thing, she had no idea. "So... how is he now?" she wondered.

"That's our concern," Jay told her somewhat reluctantly. "We will be monitoring him closely through the night, and if he remains as stable as he is now, he should be out of immediate danger by morning. Due to the amount of blood lost, his body is very weak. He's still on oxygen since he's not able to breathe fully on his own yet, and we have him on an IV to give him more strength. What concerns me most, though, is that he sustained quite a bit of head trauma. He suffered a fracture on the side of his skull, and there is some swelling of his brain. This could hinder his recovery process, and at this time, there are no signs that he will regain consciousness."

Darren felt his heart drop, but before he could say anything, he quickly turned his attention to Lynne when she let out another quiet sob and slumped slightly in his arms. "Here, let's si' down."

The Chief led the petite woman to the chair nearest them while Jay called for the nurse behind the front desk to get a glass of water for her, and he stayed by her as she sat down. Lynne then reached out and grasped Darren's hand tightly, and he crouched down beside her as a few tears escaped from her eyes.

"Phil..."

"I know," the Englishman muttered, running his thumb over her hand in a comforting motion. "He'll recover. You just have to stay strong for him, Lynne." He smiled slightly when she took a deep breath and nodded.

Darren then looked up when the nurse approached and knelt down next to the chair Lynne was sitting in, handing her a plastic cup filled with cold water. She gratefully accepted it, and the Chief rose to his feet and walked over to Jay when he saw that she would be staying with the officer's mother for a bit. The medic was watching her sadly, only looking away when the other man quietly cleared his throat.

"Tell me honestly, Jay," Darren muttered. "How serious is this skull fracture?"

Jay sighed heavily, holding the manilla folder under his arm a bit more tightly to him. "Well, I won't lie to you. I've seen people with less severe skull fractures die."

Darren lowered his gaze and ran his hand through his sandy hair as he turned away from the medic. He expected nothing different, but it was still something he hadn't been fully prepared to hear. Jay reached out and set his free hand on the Chief's arm. "I know it's difficult to think about, Darren," he continued just as quietly. "But if Phil holds on until morning, there may be hope for him. I would feel better if he regained consciousness because that would give me a better indication on his recovery, but at this point, all we can do is wait and see. It's not impossible that he could come back from this."

The Englishman was silent for a long moment before he took a deep breath. "I'll be right back, Jay."

Jay nodded, watching sadly as Darren walked away from him across the waiting room. He stepped through the automatic doors into the cool night air, pacing a little before sitting down on a wooden bench in front of the small flower garden near the door.

Phil had been one of the officers he had seen true potential in when he had been elected as Chief of Police years before, one that he had wanted to work beside him as Assistant Chief, and it had been a joy for him to watch how he had grown into the officer he had become over the six years he had been a part of the force. And he still had much to learn, he knew, for it was a job where things were always changing, and it was hard for him to accept that Phil may never get that chance. It was hard for him to accept that he could lose not only his career now, but his life as well.

Since the younger man's mentor had been killed, Darren had taken great care to take Phil under his wing and watch out for him. But if anything, the officer had only grown more and had become more determined while out in the field because of the loss. And over those years, Phil had become like family, and vice versa. When his father had died only a couple months before, he had also kept a closer eye on Phil, but once more, the younger man didn't let it affect his job. If anything, it once again only fueled it.

Darren sighed, feeling a thin line of tears form in his eyes. Though he knew it couldn't compare to what he knew Lynne must have been feeling, his own heart had nearly stopped at the possibility that a man he almost considered to be another son to him could be lying on his deathbed. It just didn't seem possible...

This thought caused the Chief to lose the battle to keep his composure, however, and Darren leaned forward on his knees and closed his eyes as he felt a couple tears escape from them.

* * *

"So they're gonna carefully monitor Phil through the night since he's still on life support, but he should be out of immediate danger by morning if he doesn't take a turn for the worst," Nick read from the text that Darren had sent him. "The surgery to remove the bullet was successful, but the main concern now is the head trauma he sustained. He has a skull fracture and some swelling of his brain. Chief will update us further when he knows more. He and Lynne are gonna go see him now, but they're the only two Jay's allowing for the time being."

"So, that's somewhat encouraging, isn't it?" Layla asked quietly as she took a sip of the soda she had gotten before taking a chip out of the bag Cody had gotten for them to share. "I mean, it could be worse. At least he's not getting worse since he's been brought in."

"That's true," Cody agreed quietly, tightening his arm slightly around his girlfriend. "But it could be better too. Head trauma is never good."

Scott remained silent, however, as he simply stared at the untouched bag of chips sitting on the table that Nick had gotten for him. The latter noticed and sat down in the chair beside him. "Hey, man," he said gently, setting his hand lightly on his arm. "Did you hear what Darren sent? Phil's improving a little–!"

But he was cut off when Scott suddenly lunged an arm out as he stood, causing Nick's chair to topple over on the smooth floor. Cody watched as his partner hit the ground before pushing himself to his feet too. "Hey!" he snapped angrily, walking around the table to stand by the other officer. "I know Phil's your best friend, but we're all just as concerned–!"

"No, Cody!" Scott yelled, tossing the bag of chips to the floor as well so they landed close to Nick. "You don't know what it's like, okay? You're not the one who found him shot and beaten so badly that you thought he was _dead_! You weren't the one who had to sit and not be able to do _anything _while he was dying in the back of an ambulance! You have no idea what that feels like! So don't even try to pretend you know what I'm going through!"

Cody stared at the other man in shock for a moment, unsure of what to say. "Scott..."

"No! All of you leave me the hell alone!" Scott felt tears fill his eyes since it was the first time he had voiced any of the thoughts on his mind as he turned to look at Layla, who was sitting in her seat and looking up at him with fear, and to Nick, who was watching him with disbelief from the floor, before he pushed past Cody and stormed out of the cafeteria, not looking back.

* * *

Matt sighed heavily as he pushed the door to the Fuze open for the second time that night, finding it was just as crowded as it had been when he had left after getting the urgent call from Darren. He made his way through the people who had clearly had too much to drink over to the bar, seeing Curt was still sitting at the counter with a couple drinks in front of him. This time, though, he had two blonde women sitting on either side of him and one red-haired woman on his knee while Reks lingered threateningly in the background.

"So, I told him..." he was saying to his captive audience when Matt approached. However, his sentence trailed off when he saw his best friend's despondent expression, and he sighed as he glanced back at his bodyguard. "Yo, Reks."

The three women around him looked somewhat confused, but then they all shrieked and scurried away when the tall, intimidating figure known as Reks stood close to Curt. The latter sighed as he turned to the rookie, tightening his ponytail.

"I may have just had a potential client sent off running," he muttered irritably as he took a sip of one of the drinks in front of him. "One of them may have had some vocal talent. I was gonna find out later." He paused, noticing that the other man's expression hadn't changed at all. He merely continued to stare blankly at his hands folded tightly on the counter. "All right, man, what's wrong with you? Something at work go badly?"

Matt slowly shook his head in silent answer. Curt sighed again, leaning closer to his best friend. "Look, I'm not a mind reader, man," he said, dropping his voice slightly. "What happened? You look like someone died or something."

"Someone may," Matt murmured quietly, not looking at the other man.

Curt's eyes narrowed slightly in concern. He then turned to Eve Torres, who was cleaning a couple glasses behind the bar nearby. "Hey, can we get Matt here a drink?" he asked her.

"No, I don't want one," Matt told her quickly. He watched as Eve shrugged slightly and continued cleaning. "Actually, on second thought, I want the strongest thing you've got."

Eve raised a questioning eyebrow as she set the clean glass aside. "I can do that," she replied. "But wow, what's with the change in attitude, rookie? Bad night at work?"

Matt looked away from her, and she glanced at Curt before she began to prepare the drink the rookie had requested. The indie record dealer turned to the other man, setting his hand on his arm securely. "What do you mean?" he pressed. "Someone could die?"

The other man nodded slightly, not noticing that Eve was watching them curiously out of the corner of her eye. "My... my mentor," he confirmed, his tone wavering slightly. "I'm not sure what happened... Another officer found him somewhere in bad shape. He's in critical condition right now."

Curt looked at Matt sadly, tightening his hold on his arm. "Hang in there, man," he said as he straightened up on his stool. "I'm sure everything will be all right."

Matt nodded slightly, but he didn't appear to be convinced. "Yeah, that's what everyone keeps saying..."

Eve turned her back on the two men, mulling over what she had just heard. Phil was in critical condition. She quickly poured Matt's drink and set it down on the counter in front of him, a slight smile appearing at the corner of her lips. "Here you go, rookie," she muttered with a quick wink. "This should perk you up a little."

Sighing, the Long Island briefly nodded to her as he picked up the glass and took a small, cautious sip of the strong liquor. Eve watched him for a minute before she turned her back on the two men again, a gleam in her eye.

* * *

Lynne took a deep breath as she reached out and grasped the door handle, pausing for a moment before she pushed it open to reveal the hospital room that now belonged to her son. She instantly knew that nothing could have fully prepared her for the sight before her, and her breath caught in her chest as her hands flew to her mouth.

Phil was lying still amidst the white, sterile sheets with his eyes closed, his chest briefly rising and falling. His torso was wrapped securely in bandages, and the bruises that marked his face stood out against the paleness of his skin. He was connected to tubes that enabled him to breathe, more machines monitored his heart rate and blood pressure, and an IV was attached to the crook of his arm to supply his body with nutrients.

She felt herself start to shake slightly, and Lynne quickly closed her eyes against the tears that were now burning in them. But she knew it would not block out the low murmur of _beeps_ from the machines or the image of her son that was now ingrained in her memory.

Then, she slowly opened her eyes again when she felt a secure pair of hands land on her shoulders, and Lynne waited until she forced her tears back before she glanced behind her. She saw the small smile that Darren was giving her, and she sighed heavily as she nodded before she slowly walked into the room, the Chief close behind her. The petite woman hesitantly approached the bed and sat down on the cushioned chair beside it before her legs decided to give out on her. She simply stared at Phil before she slowly reached out with a trembling hand and ran her fingers lightly over his cold cheek, not surprised when she didn't get a response.

Lynne then took her son's tattooed hand in both of hers, leaning over and leaving a light kiss on it before a sob escaped from her. "Phil..."

Darren's gaze saddened as he crouched down beside the chair, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Oh, Lynne," he muttered, sighing as he looked down at Phil as well. "It'll be all right."

But Lynne shook her head slightly, still holding Phil's hand close to her as she looked up at the Englishman. "I can't..." she muttered between her tears. "I can't lose all my boys, Darren..."

The Chief tightened his hold on her, sadly watching as she brought Phil's hand to her cheek. He knew that she had been devastated when her oldest son had turned his back on the family years before, only to face the same heartbreak when her beloved husband had passed away only a couple short months before. To lose Phil so soon after would be detrimental.

"You're no' going to, Lynne," Darren tried to assure her as her shoulders continued to shake beneath his arm. "You have to believe Phil will pull through this."

Lynne nodded, but he knew the action was only to appease him. Darren sighed, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket to check the time. "I need to make a quick phone call for tomorrow morning," he said. "Would you like to come with me? I'll ge' you a drink from the cafeteria."

But the petite woman shook her head, trying to wipe her tears away with one hand. "No, I should... I should stay here with my son..." she replied quietly, giving the Chief a small smile.

Darren returned it, squeezing her shoulder reassuringly. "And tha' is where you should be," he told her. "I'll be back soon."

"Okay." Lynne watched as the Englishman left the room, cell phone in hand. She then turned back to the motionless Phil, once again grasping his hand in both of hers and giving it another quick kiss before lightly running her thumb over it. "I'm right here, honey. You don't have to wake up yet unless you want to, but just know that I'm right here."

Tears once more returned to her eyes when she got no response out of Phil, and even though she hadn't expected one, it was still difficult for her. She wasn't sure how long she sat beside him, simply rubbing his hand as she fought to keep her tears at bay. But then, she leaned a little closer to him when she thought she felt his fingers move slightly against hers.

"Phil?" But she got no answer.

Lynne sighed, sitting back in her seat slightly. The logical side of her told her she had probably just imagined the movement, but her maternal side was continuing to grasp at any hope that her son was waking up.

Then, she gasped quietly when she noticed a single tear fall from beneath Phil's closed eyelid and trail down his cheek, and she couldn't keep back her own as she reached forward and wiped his away. "Oh, Phil..."

It was at that moment she was sure she physically felt her heart break.

* * *

The petite woman had stepped out of the room when the nurses arrived to check on all of Phil's vitals, and she had finally agreed to let the Chief of Police bring her down to the cafeteria for something to drink and possibly a small snack if her stomach could handle it. The nurses had left soon after, stating that everything was fine.

This left the injured police officer all alone.

The man made his way down the hallway toward the closed door, the slight limp in his left leg slowing him down a bit as he paused in front of the room. He pushed down on the door handle before stepping inside, a slight smirk appearing on his face when he saw Phil Brooks still had yet to regain consciousness as he lay among the white sheets, surrounded by machines. A slight chuckle escaped from him as he slowly approached the bed, leaning on the cushioned chair beside it as he looked down at the defenseless man. His light eyes scanned over the bruises that marked his face, the bandages wrapped around his torso, the small braces that encased his broken fingers, and the thin cords and tubes that were keeping him alive.

"Not looking so great right now, are ya', Phil?" the man taunted in nearly a whisper, his smirk lingering as his eyes moved back to the other man's blank face. "Just lying there, so still, with a machine to breathe for you. It's amazing how fragile we humans actually are, you know that? It's not too difficult to render the body useless.

"But despite that frailty we all possess, the fighting spirit is much harder to smite, which is why I'm assuming you're still here now. You have a lot to fight for, don't you, Phil? The friends who love and support you. Your lovely sisters. Your little nephews. Your oh so caring mother. So much to keep you going." He paused for a moment. "You've never been one to just lie down quietly and give up, Phil, that's what I've always admired about you. Despite everything, you always fight. But this is the very reason why I've always passed the same message along to people, and you're no exception. Never take anything for granted, boy. For everything can be taken away in a heartbeat."

The man than glanced over his shoulder when he heard nearing voices, a smirk returning to his face as he turned back to the other man. "Well, it looks like we'll have to cut this short," he muttered. "I'll be seeing you around, Phil." Then, he turned away from the bed and left the room, pulling the hood of his dark sweatshirt over his head before shutting the door behind him.

**Author's Note**: And there's the quote from the summary! So, who is this guy? From this point on, there will be more clues that will lead you to the answer for that question. Not too many in here, but there were some important details that shouldn't be overlooked. For now, though, I hope you liked it! Thanks for reading, your reviews are much appreciated. Thank you!


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing associated with the WWE. Just any OCs!

**Summary**: AU. "Never take anything for granted. For everything can be taken away in a heartbeat." When a brutal attack causes Phil Brooks to lose his memory, he struggles to not only piece his life back together and regain what was lost, but also to discover who still wants him dead.

**Author's Note**: Hey, thanks for your reviews, guys! I'm glad you're liking this story so far. From this point out, clues will be a bit more prevalent as to who is behind everything, including who the man in the room was last time. So, keep a sharp eye out! Enjoy and happy hunting! :)

_Chapter 15_

Barbara set four thin manilla folders in a pile on one end of the desk and a thicker one next to it. Darren had stopped by early that morning to give them to her along with instructions on who they each went to. With no change in Phil's condition over the night, he wouldn't be at the station full time, and the thick folder was full of instructions and assignments for the man he had called to stand in for him while he wasn't there. She didn't know who the stand-in was, but he assured her that whoever walked through the station doors to take his place had once been Chief of Police himself. The other four folders were to go to a few officers, and at least she knew which hands they were to be put into.

When eight o' clock rolled around, the automatic doors slid open as Nick entered the lobby, rubbing his tired eyes as he yawned. "Morning," Barbara greeted as she rose to her feet, grabbing the pile of folders as she walked around the desk. "Any news on Phil?"

Nick sighed as he shook his head. "Not yet," he replied. "All I know is he was in critical condition last night because of a gunshot wound and skull fracture and is still on life support."

Barbara worried her bottom lip between her teeth. "That's not good. I know Scott was really shaken up when he called last night," she muttered. Then, she went through the four folders in her arms until she came to the one with "Nemeth" written on the front. "Here. Darren left this for you this morning."

"Oh?" Nick took the folder from her and opened it, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Psychological evaluation at nine?" He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket to check the time. "That's in an hour..."

"I don't know much about it, but I'm assuming it's because you're close to Phil." Barbara shrugged.

Nick took a deep breath. "Not the way I wanted to start my day, but I suppose it can't be helped," he said, mainly to himself. "Oh, well. I can't blame Darren."

Barbara nodded, but she couldn't say anything more when the doors slid open again, and she looked up in time to see Cody and Layla enter the station. "Morning, guys." The night dispatcher then approached them, holding out the manilla folder with "Runnels" written on the front out to the officer. "Here, Cody. This is for you."

Cody took the folder with confusion, his eyes narrowing slightly when he saw what was inside. "Psych evaluation at nine-thirty?"

"Darren set it up," Barbara explained. "With the incident with Phil..."

"Ah, right." Cody shut the folder as he looked up at Barbara and Nick. "Anyone hear anything?"

Nick shook his head. "Nah, man. Nothing," he told him. "But I'm assuming right now that no news is good news."

Cody sighed as he nodded. "I'm hoping Phil pulls through," he said. "I mean, how could this have even happened? It shouldn't be Phil..."

Barbara's gaze saddened slightly as she reached out and rubbed his shoulder in a comforting way. Cody gave her a slight smile in return, but he was startled when Layla suddenly stepped in front of him.

"Keep your hands off him, you bitch!" she snapped before shoving her.

The modeling student looked at the Englishwoman with shock before she shoved the two remaining folders into a startled Nick's hands. "What the hell, Layla?" she demanded, pushing her back. "I wasn't doing anything!"

"Oh, no? That surprises me after you _kissed_ him! You've always wanted him, and you know it!" Layla then reached out and started to pull on Barbara's blonde hair. The night dispatcher shrieked as she began to slap the other woman to try to get her to let go.

Nick and Cody watched the scene before them with wide eyes. "Um, I think your girl has finally snapped," the former murmured.

"Yeah..." Cody sighed as he stepped forward, wrapping his arms around the dark-haired woman from behind. "Come on, Lay..."

"No!"

Nick chuckled quietly, setting the folders on the desk behind him before he gently but firmly grabbed Barbara's arms. "All right, come on now, ladies. Break it up!" However, his words had no affect as the two women continued to slap and claw at each other.

"_Enough_!"

The sudden booming voice caused all four of them to freeze, and Nick, Cody, Layla, and Barbara all quickly looked toward the doors of the lobby to see a tall, well-built man wearing jeans, a dark Metallica t-shirt, and black Converse had entered the station. He shifted his leather jacket in his tattooed arms to a more comfortable position before he raised his sunglasses to sit on top of his shoulder-length blond hair, running a hand over his scruff-lined face as he studied them with his intense green eyes.

"This is not gonna happen under my watch, ladies," he said, his gaze resting on Barbara and Layla first. "I understand everyone is under a lot of stress right now, but believe me when I say I don't care about any little spats you two may have. This is unacceptable in this station. When I was Chief, this never happened, and it's not going to now."

Layla and Barbara both lowered their gazes. "Sorry," they mumbled together.

The man studied them a moment longer before he nodded. "All right, so which one of you is Barbara Blank?" he asked.

The blonde woman looked up at him nervously. "That would be me," she answered quietly.

The new arrival turned his gaze to her. "Darren said you had something for me?" he pressed.

Barbara looked back at him, startled. "Are you his replacement?" she wondered.

"You got it, sweetheart," the blond man confirmed. He watched as she walked away from Nick to get the thick folder from her desk and sighed, running a hand through his hair as he muttered to himself, "And I've got my work cut out for me. Darren owes me big time."

However, he put a smile on his face when Barbara handed him the thick manilla folder, the look lingering as he opened it. "All right, let's see here... Who do we have already?"

"Um, I'm Officer Nemeth, and this is Officer Runnels," Nick said while Cody nodded.

The new arrival looked up at the dark-haired man, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Runnels, huh?" he muttered. Then, a small but true smile appeared on his face. "I thought I recognized you, kid. It's been a while."

Cody returned the look as he stepped forward. "It's good to see you again, Chief Copeland," he replied, holding his hand out.

The former Chief of Police took the younger officer's hand and shook it before he pulled him into a quick one-armed embrace. "You're looking good, kid," he told him, patting his shoulder. "Honestly can't say I'm surprised to see you here. Your dad was a great mentor to me when I first got started, and your brother was one of my best officers. I'm sure your dad's proud that you're here too."

"I hope so, Sir," Cody muttered.

"It's Adam to you." The blond-haired man smiled as he then turned his attention back to the folder in his arms and skimmed through the files. "All right, so it seems that you and Nemeth here are still investigating a used car dealership in a domestic disturbance case. But before you continue with that, you both have a meeting with our lovely psychologist set up by Chief Darren."

"Yeah," Nick confirmed, holding up the thin folder in his hand slightly for emphasis. "One of our friends..."

Adam nodded. "Yes, Darren informed me of the situation with one of his officers being in critical condition," he said. "It's a shame. I hope the kid pulls through. But that's why I'm here for a while." He looked through a couple more files. "So, it looks like an Officer Cardona has an evaluation at ten. Where is he?"

"Here! Sorry I'm late, Sir."

The group of five turned to look as Matt walked through the automatic doors, hand at his head. Adam raised an eyebrow. "Late night?" he asked.

Matt groaned. "Dude, you have no idea," he answered quietly. But then, he looked at the blond-haired man, startled. "Who's this?"

A smirk appeared on Adam's face. "Former Chief of Police, Adam Copeland," he told him. "Dragged out of retirement by your current Chief. I'll be standing in for him until he returns full time, but I expect the same respect you give to Darren."

Slight color graced Matt's cheeks. "Y-yes, of course..." he mumbled quietly.

Adam chuckled as he took the thinner folder with "Cardona" written on the front from Barbara and handed it to the rookie. "You have a meeting with our psychologist in two hours," he informed him. "If all goes well, I'll send you out on patrol with..." He paused, briefly glancing at the file in his arms. "Officer Barreta. And until then, I suggest you rest up."

"Yeah... that'd probably be a good idea," Matt agreed quietly, rubbing his aching forehead before he slowly crossed the lobby and disappeared through the door that led to the back offices.

"All right, then." Adam opened his file once more. "So, an Officer Colton has an evaluation at eight-thirty." He glanced at his watch and raised his eyebrows. "That's only twenty minutes away..."

"I'm here."

Adam glanced over his shoulder at the quiet tone, watching as Scott slowly walked over. He looked at his blank face carefully, already feeling a tad concerned. "Well, after your meeting, if all goes well, you'll be continuing your assignment with the domes–!"

"I know," Scott muttered, causing Adam to raise an eyebrow. He then approached Barbara, snatching the remaining folder out of her hands before walking through the door to the back offices without another word.

Nick and Cody exchanged worried glances. "He's the hospitalized officer's best friend..." the latter began, but he stopped when Adam nodded.

"Understood," the former Chief said, dropping the thick folder on the dispatcher's desk. He then turned to the modeling student. "Barbara, I believe your shift's over, my dear. You're free to go since Miss Layla El's here to take your place."

Barbara nodded, glancing nervously at Layla before she hurried over to the desk, grabbed her backpack and light sweatshirt, and crossed the lobby through the automatic doors. The Englishwoman then set her purse on the desk and sat down in the seat that the blonde woman had previously occupied, and Adam turned to Nick and Cody.

"Well, you both have some time before your evaluations," he told them. "If anyone needs anything, I'll be in Darren's office."

"Okay, Chief." Nick watched as Adam crossed the lobby and disappeared through the door that Matt and Scott had previously gone through before he turned to his partner. "Well, I think I'm gonna get a quick workout in. Then if our meetings go well, I'll meet you here to head over to that car dealership."

"Sounds good, man." Cody waited until Nick left the lobby before he turned to his girlfriend sitting stiffly behind the desk. "Are you all right, Lay?"

Layla glanced up at him. "Yeah, fine," she replied. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Cody's light eyes ran over the couple scratches that lingered on Layla's right cheek from Barbara's nails before he walked around the desk and wound an arm around her before kissing her head. "I'm gonna go have a quick word with Adam," he said quietly. "Then I'll come back here until it's time for my appointment."

"All right. Sounds good, luv." Layla gave him a small smile before her boyfriend met her lips in a quick but loving kiss. She watched as he walked through the door that led to the back offices before she sighed and ran her hand through her dark hair. She knew that the time where the station would be under the sharp eye of Adam Copeland would certainly prove to be interesting.

She logged into her account on the computer, and while she waited for everything to load, the Englishwoman's eyes absently wandered over to the memorial wall on her left. She rubbed her tired eyes as they scanned over the many faces of the men and women who had lost their lives, wishing she and Cody could have gotten at least another hour or two of sleep. Then again, she knew that everyone who had been at the hospital the night before hadn't slept well, not when a close friend was in such critical condition.

Suddenly, Layla's heart nearly stopped when she looked at the last picture hanging on the wall.

No longer was it Chris Irvine.

Instead, the scruff-lined face of Phil Brooks was smiling back at her.

A broken sob escaped from her as Layla covered her face in attempt to stop the tears that were now running down her cheeks. No, it wasn't possible. His picture couldn't have been up on the wall already, she refused to accept it. Phil wasn't gone...

She hardly heard the back door of the lobby open as someone came from the back offices. "He's busy, so I'll..."

However, Cody's sentence trailed off when he saw his girlfriend in tears behind the front desk, and he hurried over to her. "Lay, what's wrong?" he asked anxiously, wrapping his arms around her shaking frame and pulling her close to him. "Shh, it's okay. Lay, look at me. What is it?"

It took a long moment for Layla to calm herself down enough to answer as another sob caused her body to shudder, though she was grateful for the officer's secure arms around her. "The wall..." she managed to choke out as he rubbed her back in a comforting way. "Look... look at the wall... The last picture..."

Confused, Cody turned to look over his shoulder at the memorial wall, his eyes narrowing slightly. "What about it?" he wondered, turning back to the woman in his arms.

"Who... who is it?" Layla murmured, taking a deep breath as she started to settle her breathing.

"Chris," Cody told her. "Why? Lay, what's going on?"

Layla glanced up at her boyfriend before she looked around him at the wall again, and she briefly closed her eyes when she indeed saw Chris Irvine's smiling face looking back at her. It was just her imagination, she tried to assure herself. A trick of her exhausted mind. She had never seen Phil's picture up there, and she wasn't going to anytime soon. It was still just a fear that had been on her mind ever since she had heard the other officer was in the hospital.

"Come on, Lay," Cody continued, brushing some dark hair out of her face before lightly running his thumb over her tear-stained cheek to wipe some fresh ones away. "What's wrong?"

The Englishwoman took a deep, steadying breath as she blinked away a few tears that lingered in her eyes before she grasped Cody's hand tightly in both of hers. "I... I thought I saw... Phil..."

Cody's gaze saddened as he tightened his hand around hers slightly and slowly knelt on the floor next to her chair, leaning forward and lightly kissing her forehead. "I know it's something we're all worried about," he muttered, resting his other hand on the back of her head. "But we have to stay positive, Lay. Phil's gonna make it through this. All right?"

Layla nodded a couple times, and Cody smiled slightly before he kissed her cheek. "That's my girl."

The dark-haired dispatcher took another deep breath, sniffing as she wiped the remainder of her tears away and kept her hold on her boyfriend's hand. "It was just..." Layla paused, not quite knowing how to continue.

Cody nodded in understanding. "I know. It's a fear on my mind too."

Layla met his blue-green eyes, a slight smile appearing on her face. "You know, I've been thinking quite a bit since last night, Cody," she said quietly.

The officer looked at his girlfriend with confusion from where he was still kneeling on the floor. "About what, Lay?" he wondered.

"Well, the answer to the question you wanted to ask me," Layla explained, her smile lingering as she took his hand in both of hers again. "And it's yes."

Cody stared at her for a long moment before realization began to dawn on him. "Wh... what?"

Layla chuckled a little, a thin line of tears forming her eyes. But this time, they were tears of happiness. "Yes, Cody," she murmured. "I will marry you. That is what you were trying to do last night, was it not?"

"Um... well..." Cody stared at the woman he had dated for four years in disbelief. The proposal he had attempted to go through with before being interrupted by Darren had nearly slipped his mind, and he realized he should have known Layla would know what he had been trying to do. "I... I don't have the ring with me now, Lay."

"That's all right," Layla told him, her smile broadening. "I don't need it now. Knowing you'll soon be my husband is enough for me."

Cody couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face as a slight laugh escaped from him, his relief clear in his eyes. Tightening his hold on her hand, he slowly leaned forward and caught the lips of the woman he was now going to marry.

* * *

Natalie Neidhart held her clipboard securely under her arm as she walked down the narrow hallway, tightening the ponytail that held her blonde hair back from her face before stopping to fill her water bottle up at the fountain on the wall. That morning was going to be a busy one for her, she knew, since she had four appointments. Her brow furrowed slightly. She usually never had so many at one time, but she knew that after Phil Brooks was rushed to the hospital in critical condition the night before, it shouldn't have surprised her. He was an officer who was loved and respected by many.

"Well, if it isn't Nattie?"

Surprised by the sudden voice from behind her, the police force's psychologist quickly turned around, and a broad smile appeared on her face when she saw the smiling blond-haired man behind her.

"Adam," she muttered as she tightly hugged the former Chief of Police. "Darren told me that you would be filling in for him. It's so good to see you! I know those of us who worked with you before will be just as glad that you're here."

"Well, I admit it's good to be back," Adam said, his smile lingering as he ruffled her hair before he released the shorter woman. "A lot has changed since I've been gone, that's for sure. Not nearly as many familiar faces."

Natalie's gaze saddened. "Yes. Michael retired too. Paul transferred to another unit in Rockford, and I believe he's Chief there now. And Chris..." Her sentence trailed off.

Adam couldn't help but chuckle quietly at the thought of Officers Michael Hickenbottom and Paul Levesque, who had been assigned as partners back when he was Chief of Police. They had certainly liked to cause a lot of trouble around the station. "Yes, I heard about Michael," he replied. "I actually met him for lunch a couple weeks to compare how boring our lives are without this job now. I think he's currently on another one of his hunting trips. And good for Paul. I always felt he deserved a chance at being Chief." His eyes faltered slightly. "And yes, I heard about Chris as well. Tragic loss. He was one of my top officers years back. Always one of my favorites to work with. A good friend. I always thought that he would become Chief too, after Darren stepped down at any rate. I know he wanted him to be his Assistant Chief. It's such a shame that he never got that chance."

The psychologist nodded sadly. "Yes, his life was one that was cut much too short," she agreed quietly. "I miss him a lot. And Phil Brooks, the officer who's in the hospital now, was his rookie."

"Ah, yes. I heard Chris got a new rookie after his old one was dismissed on drug charges and spent some time in prison." Adam paused thoughtfully. "Strange."

"What?" Natalie wondered.

However, Adam shook his head. "Nothing," he said, a smile appearing on his face. "I do hope this Brooks kid pulls through. I'd hate to see something happen to another officer."

Natalie smiled slightly. "Yeah, I'm meeting with his closest friends and his own rookie this morning," she replied, holding up her clipboard for emphasis. "Speaking of which, I have the first one in five minutes. I should get going. Why don't we talk more over lunch, Adam?"

The former Chief nodded. "Sounds great, Nattie," he told her, giving her another quick hug. "Good luck with your appointments. There's one I'm concerned about in particular."

"Yes, and he's the first one," Natalie confirmed. "See you in a couple hours."

"I look forward to it."

Natalie gave Adam one more smile before she turned and walked down the hallway toward her office, sighing to herself as she took a sip from her water bottle. She knew that Scott Colton, the officer she would be meeting with first, was the closest one to Phil, as well as the man that she was most concerned about. This meeting was going to be difficult for him as well as for her, especially since she remembered that the last major appointment she had was with the man she would now be talking to Scott about.

When she opened the door of her office, Natalie was startled to see that someone was already sitting in the chair in front of her desk. "Wow, you're early," she commented with a slight smile, shutting the door again behind her.

Scott slowly glanced up at the psychologist, shrugging slightly. "Only five minutes," he said quietly.

Natalie's smile waned as she set her clipboard down on her desk before she sat in the chair across from him. She gazed at the officer for a long moment, sighing quietly as she leaned forward on her desk. "Look, Scott, I can tell that you don't want to be here," she began. "But this is your opportunity to get everything off your chest."

The officer merely looked back at her. "What's there to get off my chest?" he wondered listlessly. "Other than I got absolutely no sleep last night."

"Well, why don't we start by you telling me about what happened last night?" Natalie pressed. "From the beginning."

Scott's hand curled into a fist, which Natalie's light eyes flickered to nervously. "Some sick psycho nearly killed my best friend, that's what happened," he muttered so quietly that the psychologist had to strain her ears slightly to hear him. "He was just... just lying against the building... not moving... He had been beaten so much that he was bleeding and covered in bruises... They shot him... I, I th-thought... I thought he was dead, Natalie..."

Natalie's gaze saddened as she watched the man attempt to keep his emotions under control. She had known this was going to be difficult, but it was only then she realized that the officer was like a bomb waiting to go off. "All right, Scott, calm down now," she attempted to soothe him. "You–!"

"_Calm down_?!" Scott looked back at her with disbelief. "You... you don't understand. I held him as he was slipping into shock. I heard him dying in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. He's my best friend. He's like a brother to me. But when he opened his eyes and looked at me, Natalie, it was almost like he didn't know me! You have _no_ idea how that feels!"

The psychologist felt tears form in her eyes as she looked back at the distraught officer. "I understand what it's like to lose someone you care about, Scott," she tried to reason. "It's one of the hardest things to have to deal with. Believe me, I know that. But Phil isn't dead. He's in the place he needs to be right now to get the medical attention and care that will help him. You know that."

Scott took a deep breath but didn't say anything. Instead, he leaned forward and put his face into his hands for a moment before meeting the woman's gaze. Natalie sighed quietly. "So, with what you're describing to me, you feel that this attack on Phil was pre-mediated," she stated. "Do you know anyone who would want to do something like this to him?"

The officer slowly shook his head, and Natalie grabbed a pencil from the holder on her desk before looking at his profile on her clipboard. "Okay, Scott," she muttered. "Is there anything else you would like to talk to me about? Anything at all?" When Scott shook his head again, she jotted down a quick note on his file. "All right, then. I want you to take some time off..."

"_What_?!" Scott stared at her in disbelief. "Natalie, I _can't _do that!"

"Well, it's something you _need_ to do," Natalie countered sternly, looking up and meeting his gaze with determination. "You are in no condition to be here with a clear head right now. I'm not blaming you for that under the circumstances considering that you're the one who found your best friend in that condition. The best of us would not be able to think clearly. A few days off should–!"

"_No_!" Scott snapped, interrupting the psychologist as he pushed himself to his feet. "Natalie, I need to be out there finding the bastard who did this to him!"

Natalie rose to her feet as well to face him, and though he was taller than she was, she still managed an intimidating glare. "We have plenty of people to do this," she assured him firmly. "What you need to do is recover yourself. I want you to go home now while I get this form signed by Chief Copeland, and I do not want you to step foot into this station again until Monday morning. Do I make myself clear?"

Scott glared down at Natalie for a long moment, taking a few deep breaths as he lowered his gaze. Then, he pounded his fist forcefully down on her desk, making her cringe as the picture of her and her boyfriend of ten years, TJ Wilson, was knocked over by the force, before he turned on his heel and stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind him.

**Author's Note**: So, we've got some new faces who we will continue to see, and things aren't going too well for poor Scott. How things progress from here will have to be found out as we continue reading ;) Thanks for reading! Your reviews are much appreciated. Thank you!


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing associated with the WWE. Just any OCs! I also do not own Fantastic Four.

**Summary**: AU. "Never take anything for granted. For everything can be taken away in a heartbeat." When a brutal attack causes Phil Brooks to lose his memory, he struggles to not only piece his life back together and regain what was lost, but also to discover who still wants him dead.

**Author's Note**: Hey, thanks for the reviews! Well, we're getting to a point where clues will definitely start getting more relevant. Not that this story is close to being done, haha. So just keep a closer eye out than we have been in previous chapters. With that said, enjoy and happy hunting!

_Chapter 16_

Barbara sighed as she looked into her compact mirror, lightly tracing a finger over the light bruise that was left under her left eye from Layla's wrist accidentally connecting with it. She reached into the small pocket on the front of her backpack on the floor by her feet where she sat at the table and pulled out her makeup kit, starting to apply some powder over the black and blue spot to make it less noticeable.

"Ah, honey, you look fine. Just exhausted."

The modeling student raised her gaze at the familiar voice, smiling slightly as Victoria Crawford sat down across from her with two vanilla lattes in her hands. "Mike's letting me take a bit of a break," she explained, glancing over at the counter where Mike Mizanin and Kevin Kiley were standing behind the registers to take the orders of the customers filing into the Starbucks that morning. A quiet sigh escaped from her as she looked back at her long-time friend. "I'm really sorry to hear about your coworker. How's he doing? Have you heard anything?"

Barbara slowly shook her head as she yawned, taking a sip of her latte. "No, Darren hadn't stopped by the station yet when I left," she said. "Though we met his stand-in. He used to be Chief. I'm not quite sure what to make of him yet. But anyway, as far as I know, Phil's still on life support."

Victoria's dark gaze saddened as she tightened the ponytail that held her dyed red hair behind her head. "I like what I saw of him when he was here about the robbery," she muttered thoughtfully. "I hope he pulls through." She paused, her eyes once again moving to her boss as he laughed while giving a woman her iced coffee and chocolate chip cookie. "Mike... Mike doesn't know yet..."

The night dispatcher's eyes narrowed slightly. "Are you gonna tell him?" she asked.

"I don't know," Victoria answered truthfully, her tone wavering a little. "I mean, he has the right to know since they're good friends and all, but I don't know much about the situation, so I'm not sure if I'd be the best source..."

Barbara nodded her agreement. "Well, if it comes down to it, I'll tell him," she told her. "I was the one who got the call..." Her sentence trailed off, and Victoria reached forward and wrapped her neatly manicured hand around the other woman's in a comforting gesture. The modeling student gave her a small smile in return. "I mean, I knew this job came with risks and that anything could happen at anytime, but I never thought that I'd see one of my coworkers in critical condition like this..."

Victoria tightened her hand around her friend's, but before she could say anything, Barbara's attention was drawn to the door when a familiar dark blond-haired man entered the Starbucks, and her smile broadened slightly. She gave him a slight wave when his gaze passed over her and Victoria, and he smiled as well as he walked over to their table, slowed slightly by the slight limp he had.

"Whoa, I thought you were the dispatcher at the station, Barbie, not out in the field," he said with a quiet chuckle, gesturing to his own left eye.

Barbara raised a hand and lightly touched the bruise under her eye before she shrugged. "Long story," she replied.

The man nodded, but then his eyes narrowed with concern. "Hey, you okay?" he wondered. "You're looking rather pale this morning."

The night dispatcher lowered her gaze, but before she could think of a suitable answer, her friend turned to the man herself. "Hi, I'm Victoria," she stated, holding her hand out. "And you are?"

"Nice to meet you," the man muttered, shaking her proffered hand. "You can call me–!"

But before he got to finish, the sound of someone clearing their throat caught Victoria's attention. She turned to see that Mike was also approaching the table, his arms crossed in front of him as he stopped beside the blond-haired man. "All right, I need you back at work, Victoria," he told her.

Victoria gave him a small smile. "What, can't handle taking all the orders?" she asked teasingly.

Mike gave a quiet, sarcastic laugh and a sweet smile. "Funny," he answered. "But you need to get back to work now."

"Fine." Victoria glanced at Barbara, noticing the meaningful look she gave her before giving her a look that clearly read "help me" in return.

The modeling student sighed before she turned to the manager. "Mike?" When he turned to look at her with confusion, she gave him a slight but sad smile in return. "Hi, I'm Barbara Blank, the night dispatcher at the police station."

Mike's eyes shone in recognition. "Right, I remember you from the bar this past weekend," he said, causing slight color to grace Barbara's cheeks while the blond man smirked. "What's up?"

Barbara cleared her throat slightly before she sighed. "As much as I wish I didn't have to tell you this since I know he's a good friend of yours, you have the right to know," she replied. "It's about Phil."

The smile completely vanished from Mike's face as he took a step closer. "What about him?" he wondered. "Is he okay?"

The blonde woman shook her head slightly, but before she could say anything more, all four of them turned to the television that hung on the wall above the counter when a breaking news story was broadcasted.

_"... police are investigating the assault on one of Chicago's finest, Officer Phillip Brooks, who was discovered late last night near his home. No information has been released other than he remains in critical condition, and Chief of Police Darren Matthews is unavailable for comment at this time..."_

Barbara felt her heart sink when a picture of a smiling Phil appeared on the screen as the story continued, and she had to look away. She had never imagined something like this could happen to someone like him. It shouldn't have been him.

Then she looked up when she felt a hand land on her back, and she was surprised to see the blond man looking down at her with concern. Barbara sniffed and attempted to give him a smile, and he crouched down next to her chair and wound his arm around her shoulders.

"He'll be all right," he muttered as she leaned a little closer to him. "Don't worry."

Barbara nodded, not able to stop the thin line of tears that were forming in her eyes. The man sighed as he watched her for a moment before he pulled her close in a comforting embrace. "Hang in there, kid." Barbara simply nodded again, grateful for the support as she hugged him back.

Victoria looked at her friend in concern before she turned to Mike, who was standing rather stiffly next to her. Her gaze faltered when she saw him staring at the screen with shock, his face a few shades paler than it had been moments before. Sighing, she rose to her feet and placed a gentle hand on his arm. A long minute passed before Mike slowly turned to look at her, and her eyes darkened sadly when she saw the fear in his eyes.

"Mike..." she began, but she stopped when he shook his head slightly.

"No, I'm fine," he said, though his weaker tone didn't support his claim. "Um, just get back to work, please. I'll... I'll be back soon. I have to go..."

Victoria nodded in understanding, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth as Mike walked behind the counter and passed Kevin, who was also looking concerned, before he pushed through the swinging door that led to the back room to grab his car keys, not looking back.

* * *

Bryan Danielson smiled as he set a plate with a vegetable breakfast sandwich on the round table by the window, the same seat she had occupied since the first time she had stepped into the deli in front of his girlfriend of three years as she doodled in her sketchbook. "First customer of the day," he said.

April Mendez looked up from her drawing as she returned the look. "Thanks, Bryan," she replied, setting her pencil down. "It looks great."

"No problem, babe." Bryan leaned forward and kissed her cheek before he stood behind her, resting his chin on her shoulder as he looked at her sketchbook. "So, what's this for?"

"It's Phil's birthday present that I've been working on for like the past six months," she told him with a slight smirk. "It's kinda like the custom-made book I did for him before, just with his little group instead. What do you think?"

Bryan nodded in approval as his gaze traveled over the four men she was sketching for what looked like cover art of a play-off of _The Fantastic Four_ series. He recognized the features of Cody Runnels, more translucent to the point where they were supposed to look more invisible, Nick Nemeth had flames spreading up his arms, Scott Colton's neck, arms, and legs were stretched out, and Phil Brooks had a more rock-like body type. "I like it, AJ," he said.

AJ glanced at him. "Really?" she wondered.

"Yeah," Bryan confirmed, his smile lingering. "I say keep it up. Though you probably have most of it done by now, so my opinion really wouldn't matter..."

"Of course it does, hun. I just might not change my book since I'm over halfway through it." AJ chuckled quietly as she completely turned to face him, giving her boyfriend a quick kiss. But then, her eyes narrowed slightly in confusion when they landed on the small television on the high shelf behind him. "Hey, Bryan, turn the TV up. Phil's on the screen."

Bryan glanced over his shoulder, seeing Phil's smiling face looking back at him before he hurried over to the television and quickly turned it up to see what was being said about one of his closest friends.

_"... assault on one of Chicago's finest, Officer Phillip Brooks, who was discovered late last night near his home. No information has been released other than he remains in critical condition..."_

"Oh, my God..." Bryan whispered, mainly to himself while AJ looked at the screen with horror. He took a few steps back from the television, only looking away when he felt his girlfriend's smaller hand wrap around his.

"You should go see him," AJ told him quietly, attempting a slight smile. "I'll watch over the shop."

"AJ, I couldn't expect you to..." Bryan began, but he was cut off by her leaning forward and giving him another soft kiss.

"Go," she urged. "What if something happens and you didn't get to see him? God forbid, but really, Bryan. This is important. He's one of your best friends. You should go."

Bryan felt a thin line of tears form in his eyes, and he took a deep breath as he nodded slightly. She was right. He had known Phil for far too many years to not go see him now. "Thank you," he murmured, pulling her close to him.

AJ left a light kiss on his cheek before she pulled away, smiling as she squeezed his hand reassuringly. Bryan returned the look as he took his car keys out of his pocket, quickly kissing the side of her head before releasing her hand and running out of the shop.

* * *

Kofi Sarkodie-Mensah sighed as he straightened out his tie a little, a manilla folder tight under his arm as he made his way down the hallway of the crowded downtown law firm. The cases that had filtered through his office earlier that day were fresh for the taking, and he still had a little bit of time to assign them that morning.

He just turned the corner when he nearly bumped into a slightly stockier man with short hair walking in the other direction, and he managed to save his files from falling while the other man prevented his coffee mug from spilling. "Sorry, Sir."

"It's all right," Kofi said with a slight smile as he looked at one of his more successful lawyers. "Oh, David. I wanted to ask you how the unlawful firing case went yesterday."

David Otunga smiled as well as he took a sip of his coffee. "It went well," he replied with a brief nod. "I won. So that brings my record up to twenty with zero losses."

Kofi chuckled quietly as he quickly fist pounded the other man. "Good for you, man." Then, his eyes narrowed a bit as he tilted his head slightly. "What's up with the bow tie? You're the only one in the firm who wears one."

"I like it," David told him with a slight shrug. He chuckled quietly when Kofi reached out and messed the purple bow tie up a little. "Get out of here, man!"

"Have it your way, Carlton." Kofi grinned while David lightly shoved his arm as he continued walking down the hall until he came to a door at the end, pushing it open as he entered the break room. As he suspected, five men were gathered around the water bubbler across from him. "All right, guys. Case time."

A man with red hair tied back behind his head in a small ponytail turned to the door with interest, finishing off his small plastic cup of water before tossing it in the garbage can next to him. "What have we got today?" Heath Slater wondered as he approached Kofi with his partner Michael McGillicutty, a man with sandy hair and a full beard.

Kofi smiled slightly as he set the manilla folder down on the round table in front of him before opening it. "Well, we have a final will and inheritance dispute..."

Heath began to reach for it, but another hand grabbed it before the Southern man could. "That's ours!" Justin Gabriel, a man who was born and raised in South Africa and had recently transferred to the Chicago firm from Minnesota, said as he turned to his dark-haired partner, TJ Wilson.

"All right then." Kofi couldn't help but smirk as he watched Justin and TJ high five each other triumphantly. The former had once been Heath's partner when they both joined the firm together a few years before, but a dispute after a lost case had caused him to reassign them to their current partners. "Well, Heath, you and Mike can either take two neighbors suing each other or a hospitalization from a faulty hip implant."

"We'll take the hip implant," Heath muttered after Justin and TJ left the room, quickly glancing at Michael before taking the sheet. "Thanks, man."

"No problem." Kofi watched as Heath and Michael then stepped out into the hallway before turning to the one man who still remained by the bubbler, slowly sipping his cup of water. "So, it looks like you have the suing neighbors."

Ron Killings, a lawyer who had been promoted to Kofi's assistant, nodded slightly as he finished his water and threw away the cup before approaching him. "No problem, my man," he told him, picking up the sheet and briefly glancing it over. "They're my favorite kind of cases. I like to see how long it goes before someone ends up getting hurt."

Kofi chuckled quietly as he shook his head. "You are something else," he muttered.

"Hey, it's the truth," Ron said with a shrug. "The whole truth and nothing but the truth. Seriously, someone always gets hurt." He paused for a moment, watching as Kofi rubbed his tired eyes. "So, what's going on with you for the rest of the morning?"

"Nothing much," Kofi replied as he stifled a yawn. "Just gotta get the rest of these cases handed out..."

Ron nodded. "Maybe you should get yourself some coffee first," he suggested.

Kofi glanced at his assistant, but before he could say anything, he pulled out his cell phone when he felt it beginning to vibrate. He saw Bryan's name was flashing on the screen, but he simply set it down on the table and let it continue to ring.

"You know you can answer that if you'd like," Ron muttered.

"I know. But it probably isn't too important," Kofi countered as the phone stopped ringing. "Now, as I was saying–!" However, he was cut off when it began to ring again immediately, Bryan's name flashing on the screen once more.

"Not too important?" Ron repeated, raising a dark eyebrow.

Kofi sighed, closing his case file before he picked up his phone and flipped it open to bring it to his ear. "This had better be life or death, man."

His stomach tightened slightly when he heard Bryan's heavy tone on the other end.

_"It may be. Phil's in critical condition."_

Kofi's heart plummeted. That was the last thing he had expected to hear. "Crit... critical condition?" he muttered. "What happened?"

_"I'm not sure," _Bryan said honestly. _"The news said something about an assault. He was found near his apartment last night. He's in the hospital now."_

"O-okay..." Kofi ran a hand through his dark hair. "I'll be there as soon as I can. I just have some things to take care of here."

_"All right, see you soon."_

Kofi ended the call without another word and slowly slid his cell phone back into his pocket, his shocked gaze resting on nothing in particular. He looked up when he felt a hand on his shoulder, seeing that Ron was looking back at him with concern.

"You go where you need to go and do what you need to do, Kofi," he told him. "I'm sure everyone will understand. I'll finish handing these out for you."

"Are... are you sure?" Kofi asked. "I mean, I wouldn't want..."

"Just go, man!" Ron interrupted slightly impatiently as he gave him a light shove toward the door.

Kofi looked at him for a long moment before he nodded. "Thanks, Ron."

"No problem." Ron picked up the manilla folder and held it under his arm, sighing quietly to himself as Kofi ran out of the room and disappeared down the hall.

* * *

"So, how's everything going?"

Adam sighed as he leaned back in the chair he currently sat in as he absently chewed his fresh mint gum, resting his feet on the desk in front of him. "Pretty well," he answered, situating his sunglasses to a bit more comfortable position on top of his head. "Everyone's been assigned their cases. There was a bit of drama when I first came in this morning, though."

Darren raised an eyebrow from where he was standing near the door of his office. "Oh, really?" he wondered.

"Yep. Your two dispatchers were involved in a little cat fight when I arrived."

"I knew i' would happen eventually," Darren muttered with a slight chuckle, running his hand through his sandy hair. He grinned when he saw Adam's arched eyebrow. "I' involves one of our officers. Bu' anyway, I'm glad to hear tha' everything's going well so far. I have enough to worry abou' a' the moment..."

Adam nodded slightly. "How's the Brooks kid doing? Any signs of improvement?"

Darren slowly shook his head. "No' ye'," he told him. "He's still on life support and is showing no signs of waking up. His mother's with him now."

"It's a shame," Adam said quietly but thoughtfully. "But at least he has people there who care about him, even if he doesn't know it. That's what got me through..."

The Englishman's eyes narrowed slightly as he watched the former Chief's hand automatically move to his neck while his sentence trailed off. "How is your old injury?" he pressed. "Has i' been bothering you a' all?"

Adam quickly lowered his hand again when he realized the action had been seen. "No, not really," he replied. "It's just kinda frustrating that something like this took me out, you know? But, I've been enjoying the time I get to spend with my girl and all my dogs. We're thinking of getting a house down in North Carolina once summer comes, and we're planning some hiking trips. Possibly some surfing ones too."

Darren smiled slightly, though it had a sadder feel to it. He clearly remembered the day when Adam had been injured in the field, having landed on his neck wrong during a violent scuffle that had broken out during a workers' protest. He had been very fortunate to not have been paralyzed or worse, but the injury was enough to cut his career short since it wouldn't take much to aggravate it.

"Well, I'm glad to hear tha' you're no' too bored with your retiremen'," the current Chief said.

"It could be worse," Adam confirmed with a smirk.

Darren chuckled quietly before he sighed. "So, how did the evaluations go?" he asked. "Do I dare wan' to know?"

Adam straightened up in the chair slightly, grabbing a thin manilla folder that sat on the desk. "Fifty-fifty," he answered with a quick shrug. "Nemeth and Runnels were deemed fit to continue with the case they were assigned with the car dealership. I signed a release form for Colton to be on leave until Monday, and I signed another for Cardona to not come in until tomorrow, but mainly because he had a killer hangover."

"That's pretty much wha' I expected," Darren muttered thoughtfully while Adam dropped the folder back on the desk. "Colton and Brooks have been close friends since before either one of them joined the force. And Cardona... well, I'm no' too surprised."

"You know I would have fired people on the spot for coming into the station in that condition," Adam murmured, a slight smirk on his face.

Darren sighed as he sat down in the chair across the desk from him. "Yes, I would too," he agreed. "But under the curren' circumstances..."

Adam nodded in silent understanding before he let out a deep breath. "You look like you could go for a drink yourself," he stated. "I know you still keep a small bottle in the bottom drawer for when you're off duty."

The Chief laughed quietly. "I definitely could, bu' considering I haven' slept a' all and I'm going back to the hospital soon, I think I'll pass."

"All right, I won't tempt ya then." Adam quickly raised his eyebrows, his smirk returning.

Darren looked at the other man for a long moment, catching the gleam in his eye before he ran his hand through his hair. "All right, just one."

* * *

"So, what? You and Lay are actually engaged now?"

Cody nodded, glancing at Nick as he inched forward in the nearly standstill downtown traffic. "I still can't believe it," he muttered. "I found her in tears after we got in this morning..."

Nick arched an eyebrow as he turned to look at his partner. "What, and you just sprung the question on her then?" he wondered.

"No," Cody said with a slight chuckle. "Come on, Nick, I'm not that heartless." The other man smirked. "I started to ask her last night. Not in a way I imagined myself doing so, but I did. But before I could actually ask her, Darren called."

The other officer's gaze faltered slightly before putting a small smile on his face. "So, she agreed while she was in tears?"

"After," Cody clarified, a similar look appearing on his face.

Nick laughed a little as they drove a little further before pausing again. "Well, good. Congrats, man," he told him. "At least something good has come out of all of this. But why was she in tears? The fight with Barbie didn't affect her that much, did it?"

Cody shook his head. "Nah, Lay can handle her own," he replied. "She... she thought she saw Phil's picture on the wall."

The other officer momentarily closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before he opened them again. "Glad I'm not the only one," he murmured so quietly it was nearly a whisper, and Cody's gaze darkened sadly. However, Nick recovered quickly as he cleared his throat, his shoulders straightening slightly as he drove a few more feet before stopping. "So, when we get to this dealership, our best bet is to talk to the secretary first. If something is happening there, he'd be the most likely to say something. He was very nervous when Scott, Matt, and I went last time."

"Okay," Cody said as he nodded. "So, talk to the secretary. Got it."

Nick smirked. "You haven't missed a beat," he muttered teasingly, causing Cody to roll his eyes with annoyance. He laughed a little, but before either one could say anything more, the former pulled his cell phone out of his pocket when it began to ring. His eyes narrowed slightly when he saw his wife's name flashing on the screen. "It's Charity..."

Cody looked at his partner carefully as Nick opened his phone and brought it to his ear, knowing that the woman was usually the only one he would answer his phone for while on duty. "Hey, babe. What's up?"

_"N-Nick... You need to get here now."_

"Charity, I'm on duty," Nick replied gently. "Not to mention stuck in traffic. I'll–!"

_"Damn it, Nick, I'm serious!" _Charity said a bit more forcefully. _"It's time!"_

Cody's eyes narrowed when Nick's grew wide as his mouth dropped open slightly. "_Now_?!"

_"Yes, _now_! It's not like I chose this, Nick!"_

"Everything okay?" Cody asked quietly as he watched Nick's face lose a drastic amount of color.

However, Nick ignored him. "I-I'll be right there," he stammered. "Hold on, Charity."

_"Hurry up!"_

Nick quickly flipped his phone shut as he looked at the traffic lanes around them. Cody looked at his partner with slight concern. "Nick, what–!"

"Hold on," Nick muttered as he reached forward and turned on the squad car's siren, his cell phone still held tightly in his hand.

Cody's eyes widened as Nick turned his attention to the lane on their right, quickly merging when the car let him in. "Nick, what the hell are you doing?" he demanded, grabbing onto the arm rail tightly as the other officer began to speed down the street when cars moved to the side to let him pass.

Nick didn't answer immediately, seeming to be in shock as he stared at the road ahead of them intently. "Sorry, Cody, but I have to do this," he said, turning onto another street that brought him in the direction of his house with the siren still blaring. "I'm gonna be a dad!"

* * *

Darren sighed heavily as he slowly sat down in the cushioned chair beside Phil's bed. After having a couple drinks with Adam, he had returned to the hospital that night, only to find that Nick and Cody, along with their friend Jake Hager, had been there since that afternoon while the former's wife was still in labor. Nick seemed to be in shock, which the Chief had expected, and he had called Adam to inform him that the officer would be on paternal leave for the next couple of months.

Lynne had finally gone home with her daughter Natalie to get some sleep before she planned to come back to the hospital the next morning. Her daughter Cheline had also stopped by, along with Phil's friends on and off the force over the course of the day, but not once did he show any signs of waking up. Darren looked down on Phil sadly for a moment, simply listening to the quiet _beeps_ and low _hums_ of the machines around him as he moved his gaze out to the star-filled sky.

As the white noise continued to fill his ears, the Chief found himself reminded of the hours he had spent in the hospital when a hold-up involving the man lying before him now and his mentor, Chris Irvine, had gone wrong. He and a few other officers had arrived at the house shortly after the men had fled, only to find Phil in near panic as he attempted to help an unconscious Chris, who had been shot near his hip. Paramedics had been called in, and the wounded man was rushed to the hospital. Darren had stayed with him after the surgery, and though his body had started to regain strength after the amount of blood he had lost, he hadn't been strong enough to fight off the infection that had developed from the injury. It had been so sudden and unexpected that the doctors couldn't do enough in time, and the Englishman had stayed with Chris until the end. He had never even woken up. It had been very difficult for him since he had known the other man well, but he was slightly comforted knowing that at least the officer hadn't been alone in his final moments.

He just hoped that he wasn't facing the same thing with Chris' rookie now.

Darren sighed as he watched the heart monitor Phil was hooked up to, slightly assured when the green lines remained somewhat steady. He then looked down into the officer's blank, bruised face before reaching forward and lightly setting his hand on his arm, glad the younger man didn't have to be alone now either.

Suddenly, Phil's eyes snapped open.

**Author's Note**: Kind of more of a reactionary chapter, but there some crucial little details in here. Never fear, we'll cover them as we keep going. Thanks for reading! Your reviews are much appreciated. Thank you!


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing associated with the WWE. Just any OCs!

**Summary**: AU. "Never take anything for granted. For everything can be taken away in a heartbeat." When a brutal attack causes Phil Brooks to lose his memory, he struggles to not only piece his life back together and regain what was lost, but also to discover who still wants him dead.

**Author's Note**: Thanks for your reviews! I really appreciate them. So, there were a couple important details in the last chapter, and there are some here to definitely be on the look out for. With that said, enjoy and happy hunting! :)

_Chapter 17_

Darren met Phil's wide, panicked eyes with his own surprised ones. The officer began to look anxiously around, and the Chief tightened his hand on his arm slightly. "Phil, it's all right, lad," he muttered. "Phil, look a' me."

Phil's hazel gaze moved up to the Englishman's concerned face, and Darren's brow furrowed slightly when he saw no recognition under the fear in the younger man's eyes. "Ph–!" he began, but then he released his arm when Phil pulled it out of his grasp. He then sat up slightly against the pillows, and before Darren realized what he was doing, Phil began to tear at all the cords that were attached to him.

"No, Phil, stop!" Darren reached out and lightly but firmly grasped the officer's wrists. "Phil, it's all right. Calm down." However, Phil ignored his words as he struggled against him, trying to pull away as he continued to attempt to claw at the wires that hooked him to the machines.

The door to the room suddenly opened as a couple nurses hurried in closely followed by Jay, concerned about what was causing Phil's heart rate to increase so drastically. "He... he's trying to pull the cords ou'," Darren muttered in explanation as they immediately checked to see if everything was still connected. "He just woke up in a panic..."

Jay nodded as he approached the bed, setting one calming hand on Phil's shoulder in attempt to get him to stop moving so violently while placing his other lightly on his cheek. "Phil, relax," he said sternly, trying to get through to the officer. "This is Jason Reso. You're okay. You're safe." However, Phil also ignored these words as he turned his head away from his hand, trying to get his shoulder out from under his grasp as well.

The medic sighed heavily as he turned over his shoulder to look at the Chief. "Let us try to calm him back down," he told him, keeping a firm hold on Phil's shoulder to make sure he didn't pull any of the cords out despite the other man's efforts to shake him. "If you'd step out for a minute..."

"Sure, of course." Darren watched Phil continue to struggle against Jay and the nurses for a moment as he slowly backed away from the bed, looking at the officer with concern before he stepped out of the room and shut the door behind him.

* * *

Doctor Jerry Lawler smiled slightly to himself as he draped his white coat over his arm, glad to be done with the day's long shift. He had started at five that morning, and though he was finally able to go home, he would still be on call, especially with the police officer who had been brought in the night before and still remained in critical condition. Jason Reso was in charge of that particular patient since he worked closely with the police force, but he would gladly help out if he was needed. He had a lot of respect for the younger doctor, something which was returned by the Canadian native.

Jerry looked up when the door of the break room opened, watching as Doctors John Hennigan and Stephen Farrelly entered followed by their interns, Drew Galloway and Jinder Mahal. John, the former gymnast and native of sunny Los Angeles, had caught the eye of many of the hospital's nurses when he was transfered to Chicago a couple years before with his rock star like appearance. Stephen, the pale, red-haired Irishman, was newer, having only joined the hospital staff a few months before. He was already respected, however, for the work he had done to help get a small clinic in a rural community in Ireland up and running, and Jerry was glad to have him as a part of their team.

Drew had been learning from John for the couple of months he had been in Chicago, having come to intern in the States for the degree he was earning back in Scotland. He had about five months remaining in the program before he would return home to finish earning his medical doctorate. Jinder had already earned his degree and had been taken on by Stephen to get more experience in the field before being hired as an official part of the staff.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the King," John said with a broad smile when he saw the older doctor.

Jerry chuckled at the nickname the rest of the hospital staff had coined for him since he had been there for over twenty years. "Watch it, kid," he replied, causing John to laugh.

"Off fer the day, fella?" Stephen wondered as he wandered over to the coffee machine, grabbing a styrofoam cup to prepare for himself.

"Yeah, but I started before you whippersnappers did," Jerry told him teasingly. "Always on call, though. But, so is the life. Especially now."

Drew glanced at the older man. "I heard about the officer," he muttered. "How is he doing?"

Jerry sighed. "All I know is he's still in critical condition. Jay knows more than I do about him."

"It's a shame. I hope he pulls through." Then, Stephen glanced over at his intern as he finished putting cream and sugar into his regular coffee. "Oi! Ya want one, Jinder?"

"No, I'm all right," Jinder said, taking a sip from the container of hot tea he usually carried around with him.

"I'll take one, Stephen," Drew spoke up from where he was sitting at the table with John, tightening the hair tie that held his long, light brown hair back from his face.

The Irishman glanced over at him. "Then get off yer lazy arse and get one!" he replied with a broad smile. Drew rolled his eyes, watching as Stephen started preparing him a cup of coffee regardless.

John took a sip from his water bottle, running a hand through his dark, shoulder-length hair. "Such a long day," he muttered, mainly to himself. "It's nice to take a bit of a break."

"Ya got that right," Drew agreed quietly, smiling at his mentor. John just chuckled.

Jinder slowly sat down at the table across from them, holding his tea tightly in his hands. "We haven't had too many patients today," he said with a slight shrug. "Mainly check-ups and appointments."

"We were lucky today, fella," Stephen told him with a sigh, setting the second cup of steaming coffee in front of Drew. "If I messed up yer coffee with how much cream and sugar I put in it, it's yer own fault since ya didn't get it yerself."

Drew chuckled, stirring the coffee a little as the Irishman sat down next to Jinder. "I'm sure it's fine, Stephen."

Jerry shook his head slightly, a smile lingering on his face as he watched the four younger doctors. They still had quite a few years to go before they fully understood just how a well-deserved break felt. "Well, guys, I'm gonna head home," he addressed the group. "Though I might see some of you later if I'm called in."

There was a chorus of "Bye, Jerry" and "See ya', King" from John, Drew, Stephen, and Jinder as the older man left the room, shutting the door behind him. Sighing, Jerry began to make his way down the hallway, smiling and waving at a couple of the nurses who walked by in the opposite direction before whistling quietly to himself as he pulled his car keys out of his pocket. Some sleep definitely sounded like what he needed after working such a long day.

But then, Jerry stopped when one of the doors of the dark, unoccupied rooms on his right slowly opened, and his gaze faltered when he saw a hooded figure looking back at him. The figure then slowly lowered the hood of the black sweatshirt he wore, and the doctor sighed when he saw the familiar blond-haired man.

"What are you doing here?" Jerry asked quietly, his gaze flickering as he quickly looked up and down the now empty hallway.

_"You look nervous, Jerry," _the man stated, his voice distorted electronically by the device he wore. _"Don't worry. No one will know we're talking."_

Jerry sighed as he stepped into the dark room, shutting the door behind him as he turned to face the blond-haired man. "I repeat, _what_ are you doing here? Do you realize there are police all over this building right now?"

The other man smirked. _"Yes," _he replied, sitting down on the fresh sheets of the unused bed. _"I'm fully aware. After all, I put one of them in here."_

"You... you what?" Jerry stared at the man in horror, sure he could feel the color leaving his face.

But the only answer he got was a quiet chuckle. _"It doesn't matter," _he muttered. _"But you know what I'm here for, don't you, Jerry? Remember our agreement?"_

Jerry sighed as took a step closer to the bed. "I thought I told you that after the last thing I did for you, I was finished with that," he hissed angrily. "I'm through! It could cost me my job, don't _you_ realize that? And besides, you're risking your own safety by being here right now after that stunt I helped you pull."

The blond man tilted his head slightly as he looked at the doctor closely. _"As I said, no one will know I'm even here," _he muttered. _"But really, Jerry? You're through with our agreement? That's a real shame, my friend. I was counting on you."_

"Don't call me that." Jerry's eyes narrowed. "That's something I've never been."

The electronic sounding laugh that came from the other man was unnerving, and Jerry found that it took all of his willpower not to turn around and leave the room right then and there. _"No, I suppose not." _He then rose to his feet, slowly walking toward the doctor, his step hindered by the slight limp he had. _"But I guess we don't have to be friends for me to get what I want. And you are right about one thing, Jerry. It's not surprising that you didn't expect to see me again after so long, but it is that stunt you helped me pull that lets me be here right now. And I _want _what I came here for."_

However, Jerry shook his head with determination. "I told you years ago that I was finished with that," he told him. "You're not getting anymore from me."

The blond man stopped right in front of Jerry, a smirk appearing on his face. It was a look Jerry was all too familiar with, and he didn't like being on the receiving end of it now. _"No matter," _he said calmly. _"I guess I'll just have to go and get it myself, then."_

Jerry smiled slightly. "If you think I'm just gonna let you walk out and go steal some, you're out of your mind," he muttered. "Though it seems as though you kind of are already."

_"Does it now?" _The other man's smirk broadened. _"We all have our own opinions, Jerry, though I have to say mine doesn't quite match up with yours. I'm thinking very clearly. And I'm afraid you'll have no say in the matter. I will get what I came here for."_

"And how will you do that?" Jerry wondered.

_"Simple."_

There was something about the one word answer that concerned Jerry, and his eyes widened in horror when the blond man suddenly reached inside his sweatshirt and pulled out a small handgun and aimed it directly at him.

_"As I said, I'll just go and get it myself," _the man murmured, not giving Jerry a chance to respond as he fired the gun.

* * *

"Nicholas, stop pacing before you wear a hole in the floor."

Nick, now dressed in a white t-shirt and a pair of faded jeans his best friend had brought for him, groaned as he forced himself to stop walking at the sound of the Chief's voice. He, Darren, Cody, and Jake were all sitting in the waiting room of the hospital where they had been all day even before the Englishman had joined them, and the pressure of the situation was finally starting to get to the young officer. "I'm sorry," he muttered, running a hand through his disheveled light hair. "I'm just..." His sentence trailed off as he sighed, turning to the older man. "Is it supposed to take this long? What if... what if something's wrong, or..."

Darren smiled slightly. Having three sons himself, he clearly remembered the stress of being a father-to-be. "Your wife is in labor," he reminded him gently. "I' could take hours."

"Yeah, I know that. We've already been here... Well, I don't even know how long anymore. It feels like it's been days." Nick then sat heavily back in the chair he had occupied for most of the day between his partner and best friend.

Jake patted him on the arm. "Hey, man, I know this is rough," he said. "I went through this not too long ago myself. But believe me, man, it'll be one of the most rewarding moments of your life."

Nick attempted a smile before he put his face in his hands. "Damn it, this is terrible... I can't do this."

Darren's smile broadened as he reached across Cody and set his hand securely on Nick's shoulder. "It'll be all right, lad," he assured him.

Cody chuckled quietly, taking a quick sip of the diet soda he had gotten from the vending machine earlier before he turned his attention to Darren. "So, Chief, any news on Phil?" he wondered quietly, partly hoping that a change of topic would help Nick settle down somewhat.

The Englishman sighed as he released his hold on the officer's shoulder and straightened up in his chair again. "Well, Cody, as you all know he woke up a little while ago," he told him, seeing Nick was peeking at him through a gap in his fingers as well. "He was in a panic, and as far as I know, the doctors are working to calm him back down. Anything else, we'll just have to wai' and see."

Cody's gaze faltered as he absently shifted the half-empty soda bottle from one hand to the other. "Poor guy," he muttered. "I can't imagine what that has to feel like. Do you think he'll be okay?"

Darren hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say. He thought back to when Phil had abruptly woken, and he found he did understand where that panic could have come from. But what unnerved him was that when he had tried to talk to him, there had been no recognition in the other man's eyes. "I hope so, Cody," he finally settled on saying.

The other officer looked concerned by his response, but before he could say anything, the door to the waiting room opened as a petite, dark-haired nurse entered the waiting room from behind the front desk. "Mr. Nemeth," the woman they remembered was named Vickie called, a smile on her face as she looked up from her clipboard. "The doctor says you can come be with your wife now. It's almost time."

All of the color left Nick's face as he stared at the short-haired nurse with fear. "Oh, God... Guys, I can't go," he mumbled, his anxious tone trembling slightly. "I... I can't... I'm going to be a terrible father. I–!"

"Just _go_, man!" Jake interrupted with slight exasperation, shoving his best friend with enough force to get him out of the chair. "Before I have to drag you there myself. And I don't think Charity would like that very much."

Darren chuckled quietly as Nick stumbled forward a little, freezing as a deer would in oncoming headlights before Vickie made her way across the waiting room and took his hand in her freshly manicured one. "Come on, honey, it's okay," she told him, pulling him after her.

"Good luck, man!" Cody said after his partner, a smirk lighting up his face as the door closed behind the officer and the nurse. "Geeze, I've never seen Nick so nervous."

"It's understandable," Darren muttered, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his chair. "Though as your friend Jake here said, it's one of the mos' worthwhile moments in your entire life. Nicholas will understand tha' soon enough."

Cody smiled, though the look waned slightly as he took another small sip of his soda almost thoughtfully. Darren laughed a little again before he sighed, wishing he could have been sitting with them for the same joyous reason.

Suddenly, the door behind the front desk was thrown open as doctors and nurses hurried through and the sound of frantic shouting reached their ears. "Someone's been murdered!"

Darren exchanged a startled look with Cody before they rose to their feet, Jake waiting behind with concern as the other two men rushed across the waiting room before pushing their way through the door to the back. Both officers ran down the hallway as quickly as they could, following the sound of all the commotion. They turned a couple of corners before they found a large group of hospital staff gathered outside of what appeared to be a dark room, all muttering anxiously to themselves. Darren pulled out his badge as he began to make his way through, Cody sticking close behind him with his hand on his gun.

"I'm Chief of Police, Darren Matthews," the Englishman said loudly, holding up his badge for all the doctors and nurses to see while the younger man did the same. "And this is Officer Runnels. Wha' happened here?"

The anxious chattering slowly died down as the medical staff all looked at each other for answers. Finally, a tall, blonde woman slowly stepped forward, her face pale and her eyes red-rimmed from crying. "I... I just got off my shift when there... there was this noise... It was muffled... I guess it could have been a gunshot, and I... I found him like this..."

Cody looked at the clearly shaken woman with concern. "What's your name?" he asked, pulling his small notebook out of his back pocket. It was at that moment he was glad Nick had brought him to the hospital so fast since he was still in full uniform. "Just in case we need to contact you for more information."

The woman turned to the younger officer, sniffing quietly as she brushed a strand of her light hair behind her ear. "M-Michelle McCool," she answered shakily, Cody quickly writing it down.

Darren set a placating hand on Michelle's arm. "Did you touch anything?" he wondered as he craned his neck to try to see into the room past the remaining doctors and nurses. "Anything a' all?"

Michelle shook her head. "N-no, I didn't," she told him. "I called for help, and people came running. I... I don't know what possibly could have happened... He was so respected among everyone here..."

"Who is i'?" Darren pressed, glancing at Cody to make sure that he was writing down every important detail the nurse said.

"His name is Jerry Lawler." Michelle paused when more tears rose to her eyes. "He... he was already a veteran here when I started seven years ago. As I said, I... I have no idea who would want to... to do this to him. He was liked by everyone..."

Cody finished jotting down the victim's name before looking up at the nurse again. "Was there anything else you noticed that was strange about this incident? Anything out of the ordinary?"

Michelle took a deep breath as she once again shook her head. "No..."

Darren released his hold on Michelle's arm before he made his way past the remaining doctors and nurses into the dark hospital room, seeing the man named Jerry was lying face-down on the floor near the door, a decent-sized pool of blood forming beneath him. The Chief sighed quietly, his mind racing to try to figure out what potential motive someone could have to murder a respected doctor. He remembered back to when Chris Irvine had been critically injured and Jerry had been one of the doctors who had tended to him. He had liked the man then, and he was saddened that someone would do something like this to him.

"I... I noticed something," a new, quiet voice spoke up.

Both Darren and Cody turned to find another young nurse with her black hair tied behind her head lingering a few steps behind Michelle. "What's your name, my dear?" the Englishman asked.

The nurse took a deep breath. "R-Rosa Mendes," she answered quietly.

Cody quickly wrote her name down as well. "And what did you notice, Rosa?"

"Well, I had just stopped by the break room for some coffee before I went to the supply room to get a sedative for a patient," Rosa explained. "And... and quite a substantial portion of our heavy painkillers were gone. At first I didn't think much of it, but no one ever takes that much from the supply at one time."

Darren's gaze faltered slightly as he thought this new information over while Cody jotted down a quick note. A dead doctor and missing painkillers. It didn't make too much sense to him, at least not yet. "We will continue looking into this," the Chief finally addressed the waiting medical staff. "Michelle and Rosa, where will you two be tonight in case we need to contact either of you for more questions?"

"I'll be here," Rosa said. "I'm working late tonight."

"And I'll be at the bar my husband owns," Michelle added. "That's where I was going to go when I left here."

Darren turned to the blonde nurse. "Which bar?" he pressed.

"Dead Man's Tavern," Michelle told him. "It's on the corner of State and fifteenth."

The Chief's brow furrowed thoughtfully. "All right, we'll contact you if we need anything more."

All the doctors and nurses slowly started to clear away to get back to the patients they had previously been caring for, and Cody looked at the Englishman curiously. "What's on your mind?"

Darren sighed quietly before he turned to meet the younger officer's gaze. "Tomorrow, I may have Adam send you and Matthew to Dead Man's Tavern before you go back to the used car dealership," he muttered. "I wan' you to speak with the owner."

Cody nodded slightly. "Okay, sure. Is there a reason why?"

A hint of a sad smile appeared on Darren's face. "It's a bar no' too far from Phil's apartmen'," he told him quietly. "Possibly close to where the attack happened." Cody's eyes widened slightly in understanding.

The two officers waited by the dark room for a few more minutes until hospital security arrived to see what information had been learned about the incident, and the younger man stayed behind to discuss his notes with them as the Chief walked down the hall, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket to call Adam. He had only begun to dial the former police Chief's number, however, when he bumped into someone as he walked around the corner.

"Oh, I'm sorry..." Darren began, but his sentence trailed off when he saw that it was Jay.

"No, Darren, it's my fault. I was in a rush," Jay said, brushing his apology aside. But then, his gaze faltered. "Is... is it true? Was Jerry murdered?"

Darren sighed heavily. "Tha' is the way i' appears, yes," he replied. "Do you know anyone who would wan' to do this to him, Jay?"

Jay slowly shook his head, a sad look passing over his face. "No, I honestly don't," he muttered. "He... he was always like a mentor to me when I started out here. Everyone liked him. I don't know who would do this, but I hope you find them."

"That's what I've been hearing. And don' worry, we will." Darren hoped his assurance would prove true as he ran a hand through his sandy-colored hair. But then, his own gaze faltered slightly. "How's Phil?"

The paramedic appeared slightly hesitant at the inquiry, a look which unnerved Darren. "Jay, how's Phil?" the Englishman repeated firmly.

Jay sighed. "Well, we were able to get him calmed down so he won't be pulling out any important cords anytime soon," he explained. "He's sleeping peacefully now. But... there is one thing, Darren. I should have expected it with the fracture and especially with the swelling, but I didn't think he'd regain consciousness this soon. It's pretty common in cases of head trauma, though I'm not sure if it's permanent. Chances are it isn't–!"

"Damn i', Jay, wha' is wrong with my officer?!" Darren suddenly snapped, a lot more forcefully than he had intended.

A couple of minutes passed before Jay took a deep breath, running a hand through his short, light hair. "All right." He paused for another brief moment before reluctantly meeting the Chief's gaze. "His memory is gone."

* * *

Scott rested his head back against the headrest as he brought his car to a stop at a red light, his eyes moving to his badge and gun that were lying on the passenger seat next to him. It was still only the first day of his mandatory leave, and he was already itching to be back on the force and hunting down the people who had nearly killed his best friend. Even though he had always gotten along with their psychologist in the past, he didn't agree with her decision about taking this time off. Phil was like his brother. If anyone should have been searching for his attackers, it was him.

Then, Scott jumped slightly when he heard the impatient _beep _of a car horn behind him, grumbling expletives under his breath to the driver before he noticed that the light was now green. He signaled left before turning onto the dark street that would bring him to Phil's apartment, glad he had taken the bus the night before to get his car back from the spot where he had left it after finding the other man half dead on the sidewalk. His eyes passed over the bright lights of the bar on the corner, Dead Man's Tavern, as people who had clearly had too much to drink stepped outside as they laughed loudly. Shaking his head slightly at the display, the officer started to make his way down the street, but he slammed on the brakes when something else caught his eye across the street from the building.

It was a Chevy Malibu with the license plate _A3L-24H_.

Scott quickly reached into his glove compartment in front of the passenger seat, pulling out his small pocket notebook and flipping open to a page near the back. It was the same Malibu that was registered to their missing Michael Bolton, the car that he had been searching for ever since a rock had been thrown through the Brooks' living room window. He had finally found it.

Quickly making up his mind, Scott found a spot on the street to park across from the busy building and shut off his car. He tossed the notebook down onto the seat next to him before grabbing his gun and his badge, putting both on his belt as he stepped out from behind the wheel. Making sure his car was locked up, the officer jogged across the street, his hand staying close to where his weapon was as he stepped into Dead Man's Tavern.

**Author's Note**: So, things are getting slightly more complicated, I'd say. Who's the guy running around? There have been clues, but there will be plenty more to come. Thanks for reading! Your reviews are much appreciated. Thank you!


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing associated with the WWE. Just any OCs!

**Summary**: AU. "Never take anything for granted. For everything can be taken away in a heartbeat." When a brutal attack causes Phil Brooks to lose his memory, he struggles to not only piece his life back together and regain what was lost, but also to discover who still wants him dead.

**Author's Note**: Hey, guys, thanks for your reviews! I hope you had a good Christmas if you celebrate it :) So, with tensions still running high, things will certainly get interesting. How does everyone continue to deal with the unfolding case? We'll have to see! And as always, keep an eye out for clues, because they will be more prominent as we continue. So, on that note, enjoy and happy hunting!

_Chapter 18_

Scott was immediately met with all the sights and sounds a bar normally provided, instantly reminded of why he usually avoided places like this– the heavy rock music that blared over the speakers, the loud laughter and chatter of people who never knew when they had too much to drink, the dim lighting except for the brighter lights on the nearby dance floor, and the smoke from cigarettes and the nearly overwhelming smell of alcohol and cooking food that assaulted his senses. The officer made his way past the wooden tables and the overturned barrels that served as chairs, nearly bumping into a tall, dark-haired man with a slightly crooked nose who was picking up some empty glasses before he took a seat at an unoccupied stool at the bar itself. He looked around, spotting Glenn Jacobs, the head of security at the First National Bank, nearby sitting beside a blonde woman who appeared to be shaken up about something, an empty glass held tightly in her hands.

"Can I help ya?"

Not expecting the sudden Southern twang, Scott glanced up to see the bartender, a man who had his nails painted black, small, hoop earrings in both ears as well as his lower lip, and the light hair that fell past his toned shoulders dyed purple, was looking at him curiously. "Um..."

"Hey, Hardy!" Glenn suddenly called out. "Can we get Michelle another cocktail?"

"Sure, just a minute, Glenn!" the bartender said before he turned back to Scott. "Want a sec to make up your mind?"

"Yeah, sure..." Scott's eyes ran over the tattoo of a root that wound up the man's right arm from the tips of his fingers to his neck as he turned away to prepare the drink for the clearly distraught woman. He smiled slightly and waved at Glenn when the bald man nodded to him, sighing as he passed a hand over his face. He hadn't really been planning on getting anything, but a drink suddenly sounded like a good idea.

The officer watched as the bartender gave the fresh cocktail to the woman, hearing her quiet mumble of, "Thanks, Jeff," before the purple-haired man made his way back over to him. "All right, what can I get ya?"

"Um, a beer please," Scott said absently. "Lite."

Jeff raised an eyebrow. "Any particular kind?" he wondered.

Scott shook his head. "Just make sure it's a lite," he told him.

Shrugging, Jeff walked away from him, returning about a minute later with a cold bottle of lite beer he had opened and a mug. "Here ya go," he said, setting both in front of him. "Anythin' else?"

"That's fine for now," Scott muttered. "Thanks."

"No problem. Let me know if you want somethin' else." Jeff then leaned against the counter, grabbing a rag and a couple glasses to start shining.

Scott watched him for a minute, pouring some beer into the mug before he sighed. "Hey, Jeff?"

"Yeah?" Jeff briefly glanced up at the officer before going back to the shining he was doing.

"Do you know anyone who owns a car with the license plate _A3L-24H_?" Scott wondered casually, taking a sip of his beer.

Jeff paused in his cleaning, looking over at Scott. "What kind of car is it?" he asked, his tone slightly suspicious.

Scott smiled at the other man. "A Chevy Malibu," he answered. "It's a model that's a few years old at least."

The purple-haired bartender sighed as he carefully set the glasses down on the counter before tossing the rag down, leaning forward a little. "And why do you want to know?" he pressed quietly.

His smile lingering, Scott pulled out his wallet and opened it to reveal his police badge. Jeff's green eyes flickered slightly as he backed up a bit. "Look, man, if you wanna search it or somethin' like that, you're gonna need a warrant," he muttered.

"Oh, I don't wanna search it," Scott told him, putting his badge away again. "I just want to speak to the owner. It... it's parked in a questionably legal spot."

Jeff studied the officer for a moment before he sighed, leaning on the counter close to him. "See the guy who's cleanin' up tables over there?" he said, pointing to the dark-haired man Scott had nearly bumped into earlier. "He's been drivin' it here lately."

Scot smiled, patting Jeff on his tattooed arm. "Thanks, buddy," he replied, taking one more small sip of his beer before getting up from his stool. He started to walk away from the bar before pausing and hurrying back to the counter as he pulled a five dollar bill out of his wallet. "Oh, here, Jeff. That's all I'll be having. Keep the change!"

Jeff took the bill from him without a word, and Scott noticed that a tall, intimidating man was now sitting on the other side of the blonde woman named Michelle at the counter, his long black hair tied tightly behind his head and his muscled arms covered in sleeves of tattoos. He watched as he took her manicured hand in his, gently kissing the side of her head before she leaned against him. The officer then began to make his way through the crowd again, his gaze set intently on the man with the crooked nose wiping up a table that seemed to have been recently vacated.

"Hey, you have a Chevy Malibu?" Scott said as soon as he approached.

The taller dark-haired man stopped what he was doing and turned to face him with a raised eyebrow. "Wha's i' to you?" he asked with a heavy English accent.

Scott immediately knew that there was something about this man that rubbed him the wrong way, and his eyes narrowed. The rock that had flown through Lynne's window, her vandalized classroom, the robbed Starbucks, Phil fighting for his life– it all came back to him in that one moment as he watched his own fist connect with the other man's jaw.

People around them began to panic as the two men continued exchanging blows. They ended up falling over a barrel, continuing their fight on the floor, before a pair of strong hands grabbed Scott's shoulders and pulled him roughly away. The officer looked up, seeing it was the dark-haired, tattooed man who had been sitting at the bar, and he looked absolutely livid.

"What are ya doin' to my workers, boy?!" he demanded, a nervous looking Jeff and Michelle standing close behind him while Glenn was trying to restrain the crooked-nosed man. "You'd better get the hell outta' here before I get the cops on your ass!"

Scott pushed himself to his feet, running a hand over his jaw before he pulled his wallet off his belt. "I _am_ the police," he said firmly, showing the bar owner his badge. "Officer Colton."

However, the taller man seemed to be unfazed. "Mark Calaway," he replied before nodding to the people with him. "My wife Michelle, and my stepbrother Glenn. And I don't give a damn who you are! It still gives you no excuse to beat the hell outta my employees!"

The officer sighed, attempting to calm himself down as he ran a hand through his disheveled hair. He looked past the fuming man to his wife, who was looking even more shaken than before, to Jeff, who appeared shocked. His gaze then traveled over to where Glenn was looking at him in disbelief, still holding onto the dark-haired man he had previously been fighting with. "Look, we're in the middle of an investigation, and I just need to ask him a few questions–!"

"So you punch me in the face?" the dark-haired man snapped. "I–!"

"Stu, stay quiet," Mark told him before he turned back to Scott. "He doesn't have to answer any questions until I see–!"

"Wha's so importan' abou' the damn car anyway?" Stu continued despite the bar owner's warning, pulling his arm out of Glenn's firm grasp. "I' ain' even mine!"

Scott looked at him with slightly narrowed eyes. "Not yours?" he repeated.

"Are you deaf? I said i' wasn'!" Stu glared at the officer. "I'm borrowing i' from someone."

"Who? Michael Bolton?" Scott wondered, deciding to ignore the insult.

However, Stu only chuckled. "Who? The singer?" he said. "Don' make me laugh."

"That is who the car is registered to," Scott informed him as he crossed his arms, noticing the slightly nervous flicker in the other man's eyes. "So unless you tell me the owner's real name, I can–!"

However, he didn't get to finish his threat when Mark roughly grabbed his arm, and Jeff and Michelle backed away a little as he dragged Scott through the crowded building. He came to a stop at the front door, pulling the officer close.

"I don't know what it is you're tryin' to do here, but you'd better believe your boss is gonna be hearin' from me, boy," Mark muttered angrily. "You ain't harrassin' my workers. And he ain't breakin' his parole or anythin', so–!"

"Wait, parole?" Scott asked. "He was in jail?"

Mark narrowed his eyes slightly. "Is that a problem, boy?"

"N-no, not at all," Scott stammered slightly. "I was just wondering what he was in jail for..."

"Well, ya ain't findin' out until I see a warrant," Mark told him, his tone making it clear that it was the end of the conversation. "Now get the hell outta' here, boy."

Sighing quietly to himself, Scott pulled his arm out of Mark's hold before he turned and left the bar, hearing the other man slam the door behind him.

* * *

Darren stared at the paramedic in shock, and he was sure that all of the color was swiftly leaving his face. "Wha' do you mean his memory's gone?" he asked quietly.

Jay sighed, looking at the Chief sadly. "He doesn't remember anything," he answered just as quietly. "Where he is, who others are... who he is."

The Englishman hung his head, running a hand through his light hair before kneading his forehead. "So, he has no memory of anything a' all?" he muttered, sighing when Jay slowly shook his head. "Is... is i' permanen'?"

"Fortunately, I don't think so," Jay said. "I'm not sure if Phil's attackers intentionally targeted his head or not, but it did suffer enough damage to cause a lapse in memory. I'm not sure how long it will last, especially as the swelling of his brain goes down, but I don't think it will be a permanent thing."

Darren sighed with relief. "Well, that's something to be thankful for," he replied, to which Jay nodded. "You said he was sleeping now?"

"He was when we left, yes," Jay confirmed.

"May I see him?" Darren wondered.

Jay hesitated for a minute, but then he smiled slightly. "For a short time, but only because of how long we've been friends," the paramedic agreed quietly. "My only word of warning is if he does wake up, don't try to pressure him to remember anything. That will only cause him stress and hinder his recovery process."

The Englishman nodded, a smile appearing on his face as he patted the paramedic's arm. "Good man," he muttered, causing Jay to chuckle. He put his cell phone back in his pocket before he started to make his way in the direction of Phil's room, knowing his call to Adam could wait a little bit longer.

When Darren quietly opened the door of the room that the other officer was staying in, his gaze saddened slightly when he saw that Phil was sleeping a bit more peacefully than when he was there before, seemingly oblivious to the world. He carefully shut the door behind him, hoping not to wake him, before he crossed the room and lowered himself into the chair beside the bed.

Then, the Chief watched with surprise when Phil slowly turned his head in his direction, his weary hazel eyes looking up at him curiously. "I'm sorry, Phil. Did I wake you?" Darren wondered quietly.

Phil looked at him with confusion for a long moment before he slowly shook his head in answer, and the Englishman was relieved to see that there was no panic on the other man's bruised face anymore. However, there was no hint of his familiar sarcastic smirk, his catchy smile, or any recognition. "No, I... I wasn't sleeping," he muttered, his voice weak and hardly above a whisper. Darren leaned forward on his knees to hear him better. "I... I didn't know you meant me..."

Darren remembered how Jay had said Phil didn't even remember who he was, and he inwardly sighed. "It's all right," he assured him kindly. "I was just worried tha' I had interrupted your sleep."

Once again, Phil shook his head. But then, his eyes narrowed slightly as he looked up at the older man. "You were here... before..."

The Chief smiled slightly, relieved to see that he must have at least looked familiar to Phil since he had been there when he had woken up the first time. "Yes, I was," he confirmed. "I was staying here because I was concerned abou' you."

Phil looked at him for a long moment almost as though he was studying his face, struggling to remember. "Do... do I know you?" he asked hesitantly.

Darren's gaze faltered before he attempted another smile. "You are a dear friend," he answered. "Tha' is all that's importan'."

"O... okay." Phil sighed, the sound slightly frustrated. "I... I'm sorry. I know I'm supposed to... to know you, but..."

"Phil, it's all right, lad." Darren reached forward and lightly set his hand on his arm, glad to see that he didn't flinch away like before. "All I wan' you to know is tha' you can talk to me if you need anything. All right?"

The younger officer waited for a moment before he nodded. "You... you used that name again..." He took a deep breath as he looked up at the Chief. "Could... could you write it down?"

Darren felt his stomach drop a little at the almost defeated look that had appeared on Phil's face at the request, but he covered the feeling up with a smile. "Of course I can," he said, reaching for the small notebook he always carried in his pocket. "Don' worry, lad. You'll ge' used to i'."

Phil attempted a small smile, which immediately faltered, as he watched the Englishman write something down in the notebook he had pulled out before he tore out the sheet and held it out for him. He took it from his proffered hand and looked over the neat writing carefully. "Phil..." He then glanced up at him once again. "And this... this is my name?"

"Yes," Darren replied. "Phil is your name."

The younger officer looked at the paper for another minute before he set it on the table beside the bed. "What's your name?" he wondered.

"My name is Darren," the Chief told him patiently with a small smile.

"Darren," Phil repeated, to which the older man nodded.

"Yes." Then, Darren straightened up in the chair slightly. "Is there anything I can ge' for you now, Phil? Anything a' all."

Phil shrugged slightly, but the Chief noticed that his eyes traveled to the television that was hanging on the wall across from him. "Would you like to watch something?" Darren asked.

A look of relief seemed to pass over the other man's face as he smiled slightly, the first true one Darren had seen. "If you don't mind," he said. "The... the silence is bothering me..."

The Englishman smiled as well. "Of course I don' mind, lad," he replied, pushing himself to his feet before he crossed the room and turned on the television. "Is there anything you wan' to watch in particular?"

Phil shook his head in answer. "Just as long as it's on," he muttered.

"All right. Let's see wha' we can find here." The Chief continued to flip through stations, finally coming to a stop on a sports station and seeing there was a baseball game on featuring the other man's favorite Chicago team. "How's tha'?"

It took Phil a moment to answer, for he seemed to be absorbed into the moving images on the screen. "Oh, um... it's fine," he told him quietly. "Thank you..."

Darren nodded as he walked back across the room and sat back down in the chair. "You're welcome, Phil."

Phil didn't respond for a couple of minutes, finally looking away from the television and glancing at the small slip of paper on the table next to him before he looked back at the Chief and smiled slightly. Darren's gaze faltered when the younger man looked back at the screen, inwardly sighing as he thought about how close Phil's attackers had come to taking his life and how they still almost had now that he didn't have his memory. But he was determined to make sure that the other officer would not remain in this state as Jay had said. He knew it was going to be a long process, but Darren wasn't going to let Phil go through it alone.

* * *

Nick was still in disbelief. The night had been long, but he was finally a father. Not just any father, he knew, but a father to two healthy twin boys.

The officer stood between two small medical cribs the hospital had provided, looking at the even smaller sleeping forms they contained in awe. He had seen newborn babies before, remembering when Jake's wife had their son and when Charity's brother had become a father. But these two were different. They were _his_ sons.

"They're beautiful, aren't they?" a quiet voice asked.

Nick turned to the bed right behind him, a smile spreading across his face as he looked back at his wife. She looked absolutely exhausted, which he wasn't surprised about, but also very happy. He reached out and set his hand on her paler cheek for a moment, a thin line of tears forming in his eyes. "Yes," he answered simply before he turned back to the two infants. He cautiously reached out and ran his finger lightly over the clenched tiny ones of the one on his right, which the doctor had told him was the older of the two by only a few minutes. "They're just... amazing."

Charity chuckled quietly as she watched the tender, affectionate display from her husband. "I already know his name," she said, nodding to the older twin.

The officer looked up from where he was running a couple fingers through the infant's traces of light baby hair and turned to his wife curiously. "Yeah?" he replied. "You've already thought about it?"

"I have," Charity confirmed. "I wanted to run it past you, of course, and I want you to pick his brother's name."

Nick felt slightly nervous, but he hid it behind his usual confident smirk. He hadn't expected to be fully in charge of choosing one of his children's names. "All right, Charity," he muttered, sitting on the bed beside his wife. "What's the name of that little guy?"

Charity smiled as she reached out and took his hand in hers. "Well, his middle name is Andrew," she told him. "After my brother."

"Andrew, huh?" Nick smiled, thinking of his older brother-in-law who had been a part of the Armed Forces since graduating high school and was currently deployed and fighting in Iraq. He couldn't think of someone better for Charity to name one of their children after. "All right, I like it. And what's his first name?"

His wife smiled. "Nicholas. After you, of course."

Nick looked at her with a raised eyebrow before he laughed. "Come on, Charity," he said. "I was joking about naming our child after me. I didn't mean it. You don't have to do that."

However, Charity's smile only broadened. "Oh, believe me, the name is very fitting," she replied. "The doctor told me that this little guy made sure that he was the first one into this world. Couldn't help but be reminded of you."

A moment passed before Nick grinned broadly. "Yep, that's my boy!" He then got to his feet and stood in front of the crib that held his oldest son, once again tracing his finger lightly over his much smaller ones. "Nicholas Andrew Nemeth. Well, your mother stole my name choice from me, can you believe that? Don't worry, though. She's the most beautiful, wonderful woman in the world. You're gonna love her."

Charity shook her head slightly as she rolled her eyes. "All right, Nick. Time to give his brother a name. Do you have anything in mind?"

Nick sighed as he then turned his attention to the crib on his right, which now belonged to Nicholas' unnamed little brother. He studied the infant for a long moment, carefully reaching out and resting a hand on his child's head. "Well, if we ever had a son, I always wanted his middle name to be Ryan," he muttered, mainly to himself. "After my brother."

"I think that's a wonderful idea," Charity said, her eyes shining. She loved her younger brother-in-law and definitely liked the idea of having one of her sons named after him. "Do you have any first names you like? I know it'll be a little harder now since I stole your only choice."

The officer chuckled quietly, but the sound quickly trailed off as he continued to run his thumb lightly over the younger twin's head. He had never been faced with a more important decision, he knew, since his child would have to live with it for the rest of his life. He was more nervous now than when he had been debating about whether or not to ask Charity to marry him.

"You don't have to decide now, sweetheart," his wife continued through a yawn. "Take some time to think."

Nick was about to agree with her, but then, a slight smile appeared on his face. "No, Charity, I think I know," he told her, slowly turning back to the bed. "Phillip. After probably the bravest man I know."

Charity looked at her husband for a moment before a smile that mirrored his appeared on her face. "I love it," she murmured.

His smile lingering, Nick turned back to his youngest son. "Phillip Ryan Nemeth," he said quietly, nodding slightly as a proud glint appeared in his eye. "Yeah. That's what I'll name him."

"I'm proud of you," Charity told him.

Nick glanced back at her, but before he could say anything, the twin in the left crib started to fuss quietly. "I think someone wants Mommy." He then cautiously reached out and took Nicholas into his hands, marveling at how small he was as he held him in a supportive way. "All right, there we go."

Charity beamed as she watched how carefully her husband carried one of their infant sons, taking the older of the two twins into her arms when Nick slowly handed him to her. Nicholas started to quiet down when he was near his mother, snuggling closer to her. The officer smiled as he watched them, knowing that it was a moment he was going to remember for the rest of his life.

Then, he glanced over his shoulder when the second twin also started to fuss from his crib. Charity glanced up at Nick with a smile. "Go ahead, honey," she said quietly.

Nodding as he inwardly sighed, Nick slowly approached the crib, concerned when he saw how uncomfortable his younger son seemed to be. He carefully reached out and lifted Phillip into his hands as he had done with Nicholas, but then he slowly positioned him to a more comfortable and supportive position in his own arms. He couldn't believe how light his child was, or how small. It almost didn't even seem possible.

"Shh," Nick tried to comfort the whimpering infant, slowly walking back and forth. "It's all right, little buddy. Daddy's here." He paused for a minute, lightly tracing his son's tiny fingers with his own larger one. "Daddy's always here."

Charity smiled, a thin line of tears in her eyes as she looked up from the sleeping Nicholas to her husband. Though it had been one of the longest days of her life, it was also one of the most worthwhile, especially to see Nick became more comfortable around their children. She still couldn't believe that they were actually parents.

The officer then slowly sat down in the chair beside the bed when Phillip grew quiet as he snuggled closer to him, surprised when his small hand wrapped tightly around his finger. "He's got quite a grip," Nick told his wife quietly, a broad smile appearing on his face. "Look at that."

"Yes, he does," Charity agreed as she blinked away her tears. "They both do, actually."

Nick chuckled just as quietly so he wouldn't wake his younger son as he turned to look at Charity, leaning forward and kissing her cheek. Darren and Jake had been right, he knew. This was definitely one of the most worthwhile moments of his life.

* * *

Matt sighed heavily as he slumped forward on the counter slightly, taking another long sip of his beer. He had agreed to meet Curt at the Fuze once again that night, but he wasn't too sure it was the best idea since he was going back to work the next morning. However, once he got the update about the condition of his mentor from Darren, as he assumed the rest of the force got, a couple of drinks with his best friend sounded like a good idea.

"So, the news wasn't very good, I take it," Curt muttered, setting his own beer down as he looked at the other man.

The rookie briefly shook his head, passing a hand over his face. "No," he replied just as quietly. "Officer Brooks has regained consciousness, which was one of their major concerns, but he has absolutely no memory."

Curt winced. "That's not good," he said, taking another sip of his drink. "Did he say that it was permanent, or..."

"Chief didn't think so," Matt told him, absently swirling the amber liquid in his mug. "But he doesn't know how long this amnesia could last."

The indie record dealer tightened his ponytail, running a hand thoughtfully over his scruff-lined chin. "Well, at least he's out of hot water somewhat. Though I can't imagine what it's like to not remember anything. It has to be so frustrating." He paused, glancing at Matt. "So, what are you going to do while he recovers?"

Matt shrugged slightly. "From what Chief said, it looks like I'll be helping out one of the other officers on his case for a while since his partner's on paternal leave," he said. "For how long, I have no idea. I guess it kinda depends on how Officer Brooks is doing."

Curt nodded, taking another sip of his drink. "Well, keep me updated," he replied. "It's really a shame. I'd hate to see that happen to anybody." But then, he glanced behind him at a table that had a couple of women sitting at it, one red-haired and one blonde, as they kept looking in their direction. Smirking, he turned to his bodyguard. "Reks, I'm gonna go have a word with a couple potential clients. You, uh, stay with him."

The tall, intimidating figure known as Reks glanced at Curt curiously, watching as he quickly nodded at Matt before he patted his best friend on the back. "I'll be back in a little bit," he told him.

Matt sighed, watching as Curt walked over to the two women before he glanced at Reks, the man not saying a word like usual as he just kept his eyes on him, before he drained his beer and set the empty mug on the counter. He groaned quietly, rubbing his eyes. He knew as soon as he had been accepted to the Chicago police force that anything could happen at any given time. But he hadn't expected something like this to happen to someone like Phil. It shouldn't have happened.

Then, Matt glanced up when someone sat on the stool that Curt had previously occupied, and his eyes widened slightly in surprise at who he saw. "Oh! Uh... hi, Eve."

The bartender smiled as she looked back at him before the look waned slightly. "What's wrong, rookie?" she asked, reaching forward and setting her hand on his knee. "It looks like you've had a hard day."

Matt glanced down at her hand before his eyes wandered to her short athletic shorts and low cut sports jersey that served as her uniform. "Um, well... It... it's nothing," he answered quietly, forcing a smile. "Just worried about Phil, that's all."

Eve's eyes flickered slightly with concern. "How's he doing?" she wondered, keeping her hand on his knee as she scooted a little closer on the stool.

"Uh... a little better." Matt glanced down at her hand again. "But, uh... he might be staying in the hospital for a while yet."

"That's too bad," Eve muttered, meeting his gaze. "Oh, and speaking of Phil, do you think I could ask _you_ a favor since he's not going to be... in action for a bit?"

Matt looked back at her slightly nervously. "Uh, yeah... I guess..."

"Well, this is the second time my car's been in need of repair recently, and that's costing me quite a bit of money," Eve explained, leaning closer to him. "So, I'm not quite sure when I'll be able to pay back that ticket. Do you think that you can give me a _slight_ extension on it, rookie?"

"Um..." Matt swallowed slightly, glancing once more at her low-cut jersey before meeting her gaze again. "I guess I could, uh... make that happen. Considering that you're short on money, and all..."

Eve smiled, leaning even closer and leaving a light kiss on his cheek before she moved back a little. "Thanks, rookie," she muttered. "I appreciate it."

Matt nodded slightly, but then he cleared his throat. "Shouldn't you, uh... shouldn't you be working?"

The Latina chuckled. "I'm on my break," she said, releasing her hold on his knee as she crossed one leg over the other. A slight smirk appeared on her face when she saw his wandering eyes. "And you seem like you really need to loosen up, rookie."

"Um..." However, Matt really didn't get to say any more before Eve reached out and began to massage one of his shoulders, and he felt his body start to relax slightly.

Then, Eve leaned closer again, moving her fingers beneath the collar of his shirt as she continued to massage his muscles. "You're way too tense," she murmured.

Matt looked back at her for a moment, sighing as her manicured hand continued to soothe away the stress he had been feeling. "Yeah, I am," he agreed quietly.

Eve laughed a little as she got to her feet, sitting instead on his knee. "Why don't we go talk?" she suggested quietly, running both of her hands over his tense shoulders. "It might make you feel a little better."

The rookie smiled slightly in return. "I would, but I've got a long day tomorrow," he replied.

The Latina frowned slightly as she met his gaze. "Are you sure about that, rookie?" she pressed, leaning a little closer to him.

Matt chuckled quietly, moving out from under her hands. "Look, I've gotta go," he muttered. "Thanks for the offer though. And the massage. I'll, uh... Bye." He abruptly stood up from the stool and made sure he had everything before he hurried away from the bar. He accidentally bumped into Curt, who had his arms wrapped around the two women he had spotted, as he made his way through the crowd, causing the indie record dealer to watch after him with confusion.

"Yo, man, where are you going?" he wondered.

"I'll see you later!" Matt called back, pushing open the door of the bar as he hurried outside.

Curt shook his head slightly before his typical smirk returned to his face as he shifted his attention back to the blonde and redhead he had been speaking with. Eve watched as Matt left the bar with an impassive look on her face, a slight smirk replacing it as she stood to return to work.

**Author's Note**: So, definitely some interesting characters coming into the equation, some of which we may want to keep in mind. Any clues spotted? Feel free to leave them in your reviews! Thanks for reading! Your reviews are much appreciated. Thank you!


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing associated with the WWE. Just any OCs!

**Summary**: AU. "Never take anything for granted. For everything can be taken away in a heartbeat." When a brutal attack causes Phil Brooks to lose his memory, he struggles to not only piece his life back together and regain what was lost, but also to discover who still wants him dead.

**Author's Note**: Thanks for the reviews, guys! I hope you all had a Happy New Year :) So, let's see where this mystery goes, shall we? Enjoy and happy hunting!

**Warning**: The last section kinda breaches on a touchy subject. Sadly, I know people who are directly affected by this disorder, and I know how horrible it can be and do not condone it. It's regrettably a part of the business that the character of Barbara is in. However, there's no detail about it, so no worries there. It's mainly just implication.

_Chapter 19_

Barbara sighed as she closed her geology book, passing a hand over her weary face before she slipped it into her backpack, which was sitting on the floor by her feet. She just logged out of her email account when the doors of the police station slid open, surprise crossing her face at who she saw.

"What are you doing here?" she asked. "I thought you weren't–!"

"Is Adam here?" Scott interrupted as he stormed across the lobby to her, setting his hands down on the desk with a bit more force than he had intended.

The modeling student looked back up at him nervously. "Um, yeah, he got in about an hour ago," Barbara told him quietly. "He's in Darren's office–!"

However, her sentence once again trailed off when the off-duty officer walked past the desk and made his way toward the back rooms. "Scott, wait!" she called after him, sliding her backpack over her shoulder as she quickly followed after him. "Scott, I don't think that's a good idea..."

Scott ignored her protests as he pushed his way through the back door, Barbara still trailing along behind him as he quickly walked down the hall that would bring him to the Chief's office. He bumped into Trent Barreta as he was leaving the office he usually shared with Phil, not stopping to offer an apology as he simply continued walking. Barbara glanced at the other officer nervously as she continued to follow Scott.

"Come on, Scott, just stop," she muttered. But again, her words went unheeded.

As soon as he reached the door of the office that usually belonged to Darren, Scott knocked loudly a couple times before he stepped inside even before the former Chief could respond to the sound. Adam was sitting in the chair behind the desk, his feet elevated on the wooden surface, chewing on a piece of fresh mint gum as he read that morning's newspaper. He looked up at the clearly enraged man with an arched eyebrow before he glanced at the nervous Barbara behind him.

"Why don't you head back to the lobby, sweetheart?" Adam suggested, folding up the paper and setting it aside on his desk as he lowered his feet from it. "Layla will be here to take over soon."

"Um... okay," Barbara muttered with a slight smile, taking one more anxious glance at Scott. "Sorry." Then, she turned away from the office and quickly made her way back down the hallway.

Adam then sighed as he rose to his feet, crossing the room and shutting the door before he turned to look at Scott. "I don't know what it is you think you're doing here, Colton," he began. "But–!"

"Look, I wouldn't have come here if it wasn't important," Scott said quickly, not fazed when Adam crossed his arms in front of him. "I found–!"

"I know damn well what you did!" This time, it was the older man's turn to interrupt. "Because when I got to the station this morning, I had a lovely little call waiting for me from Mark Calaway, owner of Dead Man's Tavern. Ring a bell?"

For the first time since he had arrived at the station that morning, Scott's gaze faltered slightly. "Listen, I–!"

"No, _you _listen, Colton!" Adam snapped, taking a step closer to the other man. "I know you're upset because your best friend is suffering from loss of memory, but that does _not_ give you the right to do any unauthorized police work _or _to assault another man! You're damn lucky that he didn't want to press charges!"

Scott sighed with frustration. "Look, I _had_ to check that place out," he tried to explain. "Someone there knows something about what happened to Phil!"

"And because Darren called me last night, I have already assigned someone to check out the bar with a warrant," Adam countered. "We're _on_ it, Colton. I _don't_ need you running around like a reckless vigilante without any evidence–!"

"But the Chief doesn't know about the car there!" Scott protested. "We've been investigating it for the past week, and that's–!"

"If it's as important as you claim, they would have found the damn car, Colton!" Adam took a deep breath before he ran a hand through his shoulder-length blond hair to calm himself down before continuing. "My point is, Colton, what you did last night violates policy. You're on mandatory leave and not allowed to do any investigating until that is over in a couple days. Not to mention you were involved in a physical fight with another man. I'll have to take action."

"Look, if you just–!" Scott began, but he stopped when Adam's eyes narrowed almost dangerously.

"Give me your gun, Colton," the former Chief muttered. "You're suspended for thirty days." He then held his hand out toward the younger man.

Scott stared at him in disbelief. "_Suspended_?" he repeated. "You don't understand! Phil is my best friend. He's like a brother to me. And I _know_ that someone there can provide the insight we need about what happened to him! Please, you have to let me do this!"

However, Adam just sighed as he lowered his hand for a moment. "I understand more than you know," he said quietly. "When I was Chief of Police here, I was close to all of my officers. One was one of my best friends, one I went to the Police Academy in Ontario with before we were moved to the States. I was immediately transferred to Chicago while he was moved around a bit more before he finally came here." He paused for a moment, his gaze seeming far away. "He remained on the force even after I was forced to retire. But we still kept in touch. Met on weekends, took his kids to fun events, things like that. It was pretty shocking when his rookie, the one he had while I was Chief, was locked up for drug use and trafficking charges. But then, he got another kid out of the Academy, and this one was much more promising from what he told me. I was happy for him."

Adam paused again, hanging his head slightly. "And then..." He sighed heavily. "I was on vacation with my girl. Honolulu, I think it was. When we got back to our hotel that night, I got a call from Darren. Said he was at the hospital with my friend. He had been shot in a robbery gone wrong with his rookie, who had nearly been shot instead. Said he wasn't in very good condition since an infection had suddenly settled in and the doctors couldn't do too much for it. I left as soon as I could to come back here, but I was too late. He was already gone. It was six years ago, but I still find myself thinking that if I could have just gotten there a little bit sooner, things could have been different. But I know they wouldn't have."

Scott's eyes widened slightly in understanding. "You're talking about Chris, aren't you?" he wondered quietly. "Chris Irvine."

"Yes, that's who I'm talking about," Adam confirmed, giving the younger man a small smile. "I admit, walking into the station every morning now and seeing his picture on that wall is pretty difficult. But I am glad that it seems like your friend will be able to recover."

The younger officer nodded, but his stomach plummeted when Adam sighed again before he continued. "However, I'm still going to need your gun, Colton."

"But you just said you understood," Scott muttered. "Come on, Adam."

"I do understand," Adam agreed. "But I have a strict policy I need to follow. I wasn't running around trying to find the people who killed Chris, and I can't have you doing that now. You'll get your gun back when your suspension is over."

Scott sighed as he looked down at the hand the former Chief held out once again, reluctantly taking his gun from his belt and slowly setting it in his waiting palm. Adam nodded once before he walked over to the desk, sliding open the bottom drawer and setting the weapon inside before closing it again.

"Head on home and get some rest," the older man said, turning to face Scott again. "We'll find out who did this to Brooks."

A long moment passed before Scott slowly nodded, turning away from the former Chief before stepping out of the office and shutting the door quietly behind him.

* * *

"Long night?"

Matt glanced over at Cody as the other officer continued driving down the street after pulling away from a red light, chuckling quietly. "What... what do you mean?" he wondered quietly.

Cody briefly met his gaze before turning back to the road in front of them. "You've looked asleep on your feet since you came into the station this morning," he said. "Busy night?"

"Um..." Matt thought back to the night before at the Fuze. "I... I guess you could say that. I just didn't sleep very well."

The other man nodded slightly before he sighed. "It's a shame about Phil," he muttered.

Matt's gaze faltered. "Do... do you think the memory loss is permanent?" he asked hesitantly.

Cody shrugged slightly. "I really hope not," he answered uncertainly. "Phil's been a good friend of mine since our days at the Academy. I can't imagine never having him around as not only an officer again, but the guy I know as well. I saw him before I left the hospital and got to talk to him for a little bit. He's doing okay, but he doesn't remember who anyone is, not to mention himself. But Chief doesn't think it's a permanent thing, and I can't say for sure."

"I haven't been assigned to another officer yet," Matt added quietly, almost thoughtfully. "So, yeah, Chief must think that Phil's coming back."

"And we have to keep hoping for that." Cody glanced at the rookie, a slight smile returning to his face. "But it'll be nice having your help until Phil recovers or until my partner comes back from paternity leave."

Matt smiled himself as he turned to the other officer. "How's Nick's child doing?" he wondered, having not heard if he had a boy or girl.

"You mean _children_," Cody countered, chuckling quietly. "Nick's the proud father of twin boys, Nicholas and Phillip. They spent the night in the hospital, but as far as I know, they'll be able to go home either tomorrow night or the day after. I got to see them last night too."

"Oh, man." Matt grinned. "He'll have his hands full."

Cody's look mirrored Matt's. "You've got that right, kid."

The rest of the drive passed in relative silence, and Cody sighed as he pulled the squad car into the parking lot of Dead Man's Tavern. They weren't too surprised to see that it wasn't too crowded since it was still early afternoon, but that's what they had been hoping for. Cody locked up the car after Matt climbed out too, and the rookie stuck close to him as they made their way across the parking lot.

But then, Cody paused when the license plate of a Malibu caught his eye. _A3L-24H_. His eyes narrowing slightly, the officer kept it in the back of his mind as he continued toward the bar, Matt still following close behind.

A man with long, purple-dyed hair and nails painted black, a root tattoo winding its way up his right arm, was standing in front of the door, about halfway through a cigarette. He exhaled some smoke and lowered his arm to his side when the two officers approached, a wary look appearing in his green eyes. "Can I help you?" he asked.

Cody nodded as he pulled the lightly folded warrant out of his pocket before holding it out to him. "Officers Runnels and Cardona," he answered. "We need to speak to the owner."

The purple-haired man brought his cigarette to his mouth again as he took the warrant in his other hand, exhaling more smoke through his nose as he quickly looked it over. "You just missed him," he said quietly, handing it back to the officer. "He stepped out to get some more supplies."

"About how long will he be gone?" Matt pressed.

The other man just shrugged. "Probably not too long. The grocery store's not too far away."

Cody nodded as he pulled out his pocket notebook. "We'll wait around for him then since this is an important matter," he muttered, opening to a fresh page. "And you are?"

A moment passed as the purple-haired man inhaled on his cigarette again. "Jeff Hardy," he told him as he exhaled the smoke. "I'm the bartender here."

"All right." Cody paused in his writing and looked up at the other man. "Did you see anything strange around here a few nights ago?"

"Strange?" Jeff repeated as he brought his cigarette to his mouth. "I work at a bar, man. I see strange things all the time. Particularly around happy hour and after midnight."

"Really? I had no idea," Matt muttered, causing the bartender to raise an eyebrow.

Cody quietly cleared his throat as he glanced at the rookie before turning back to Jeff. "This would have been between eleven and midnight on Wednesday night," he continued. "There was an attack on one of our officers a little bit down the street here."

Jeff nodded slightly as he tossed his finished cigarette to the ground and put it out beneath his foot, exhaling the last of the smoke. "We saw that on the news," he said quietly. "Really sorry to hear about it, man. Hope he's all right."

"Thanks." Cody sighed quietly. "But we need to know if you may have noticed anything that could help us. Anything at all."

The bartender ran a hand through the long strands of his purple hair, biting his lower lip ring thoughtfully. "Well, I was on my break shortly after eleven. Had to be back before things started pickin' up around midnight," he told him. "That might have been the night I saw a couple guys hangin' around the bar, but as I said, you get strange people all the time. Especially if they've been drinkin'."

"Did you see them?" Cody asked.

Jeff shook his head. "At least not closely," he answered. "They were wearin' dark sweaters, and I think the hoods were up. I did find it a little weird since it wasn't that cold that night, but they weren't doin' anythin' threatenin'. So I didn't think much of it."

Cody made a quick note before looking back up at the bartender. "Anything else?" he pressed.

"Well..." Jeff's brow furrowed slightly as though he was struggling to remember. "There were some guys standin' outside the door, drinkin' and smokin'. Mark, he's the owner, told me to keep an eye on them to make sure they didn't leave without payin'. So after they were out here for a while, I went out to check on them, and they were havin' this really loud argument. So I tried to settle them down and get them back inside. I finally did, and as I was goin' in, I saw the two hooded guys get in this car a little ways down the street and speed off." The bartender pointed in the direction of Phil's apartment for emphasis.

After making quick notes of his account, Cody looked back up at the other man again. "The officer was shot," he said. "Did you hear a gunshot or anything like that?"

"Unfortunately, no," Jeff replied. "The bar's always so loud, man. If I did, I could have mistaken it for anythin'."

Cody nodded once. "Does the bar have any security cameras?" he wondered.

"A couple," Jeff said. "Mostly inside for obvious reasons. But we have a couple outdoor ones." He paused and pointed up toward the top of the building, and Cody and Matt noticed two cameras were perched up there and pointing in both directions up and down the street. "We also have some facin' the other street around the corner. But I don't know if they caught anythin' you're lookin' for. They don't pick up much in that direction."

Cody closed the small notebook and put it back in his pocket along with the pen. "Well, we'd like to take a look at the footage from that night anyway, just in case," he replied. "Would that be possible?"

Jeff nodded. "Sure. But you'll have to wait until Mark comes back. He's the only one who has access to the footage."

"All right, we'll wait then." Cody then glanced over at the Chevy Malibu again before he sighed. "Um, do you know who owns that car there?"

The purple-haired bartender sighed when he saw the vehicle the officer was pointing out. "Look, I don't know why you keep comin' after him," he muttered. "One of your guys was in here last night lookin' for him too. I get that he's on parole, but he hasn't been breakin' it or anythin'."

Cody and Matt exchanged a confused look before turning back to the other man. "Well, that's not why we're asking about him," the former stated. "I actually just want to ask about the car itself. Is he here?"

Jeff sighed, passing a hand over his face before he nodded. "Yeah, he's inside," he told him.

"Could I talk to him while we wait for the owner to come back?" Cody asked.

"I suppose so," Jeff answered with a slight shrug as he turned and opened the door of the bar. "You've got a warrant, don't ya?"

Cody smiled slightly as he caught the door before it could close behind the bartender, nodding at Matt to get him inside first. He followed after the rookie, his eyes having to adjust to the dimly lit room as he looked around. The officer watched as Jeff made his way over to the counter before his gaze landed on the only other person who appeared to be an employee as he cleaned off a table– a tall man with black hair, a slightly crooked nose, and a light bruise high on his left cheekbone. He pointed to him when the purple-haired man glanced in his direction, seeing his slight nod before he turned to the rookie.

"Stay around Jeff and wait for the owner to come back," Cody muttered to him. Matt nodded, casually making his way toward the bar itself as the other man made his way past the couple people who were sitting at the tables and approached the other worker. "Do you drive a Chevy Malibu?"

The man with the crooked nose sighed as he set the rag down on the table with a bit more force than necessary. "Who gives a damn abou' tha' bloody car?" he demanded in a thick English accent as he quickly turned around, but his gaze faltered when it landed on the unformed man.

"I do," Cody said calmly, holding up his badge for him to see. "Officer Runnels."

However, the dark-haired man only smirked as he turned to face Cody completely, crossing his arms in front of his chest before he leaned back against the table he had previously been cleaning. "After one of your boys came in las' nigh' and unlawfully punched me in the face, I ain' saying anything withou' seeing a warran'," he told him confidently.

Cody just smirked back. "Well, it's my lucky day, then," he replied, pulling the lightly folded paper he had shown to Jeff when he and Matt had arrived and holding it out to him. "I have one right here."

The crooked-nosed man quickly reached out and snatched the warrant out of the officer's hand, glancing it over before shoving it back at him. "Make i' quick," he muttered.

"Your cooperation will determine how long this takes." Cody then gestured to the table, and he waited for the other man to sit down on one of the overturned barrels that served as a chair before he did the same as he pulled out his pocket notebook again. "What's your name?"

"Stu Benne'," the other man mumbled, slumping forward a little as though he truly didn't care about the questions he'd be getting asked.

Cody quickly wrote the name down. "Okay, Mr. Bennett, I need to ask about that car," he said, looking back up at him. "It's been part of an ongoing investigation for over a week now that includes a number of incidents."

"And wha' would _I_ know abou' any of tha'?" Stu said. "As I told your buddy las' nigh', i' ain' even my car."

"Then whose car is it?" Cody pressed. "It's registered to a Michael Bolton, who has no records of being a citizen of Chicago."

Stu shook his head in disbelief, chuckling quietly. "Wha' is i' with you and tha' singer, who's mediocre a' bes'?" he wondered. "I don' know a Michael Bolton." He paused, leaning forward on the table. "And i' _ain'_ mine."

Cody sighed as he set down his notebook and pen on the table, leaning forward a little himself. "Mr. Bennett, that car is connected to incidents including a domestic disturbance, a vandalism, an armed robbery, and an assault on an officer," he murmured. "That last offense alone is enough to put you away for a _long_ time, and I don't think you want that considering that you're on parole." He smiled slightly when he saw the nervous look that crossed Stu's face. "That's right, I know you're on parole, and that makes it a bit easier to throw you back behind bars. So I would _strongly_ recommend that you tell me who that car belongs to unless you want to take the fall for almost killing an officer."

A moment passed as Stu's eyes darted around the almost empty bar nervously before he sighed, running a hand over his face. "All righ', i' is my car," he finally said quietly. "I bough' i' a few months ago when I was released. I didn' have much money, and this guy sold i' to me for cheap. He was practically giving i' away."

"And you didn't think of getting the registration changed?" Cody quickly made a note in his notebook.

Stu leaned a little closer as the officer looked back at him. "I _told_ you, I didn' have much money," he replied. "I still don' since I'm still trying to ge' back on my fee'. Bu' I swear to you, I _didn'_ do any of those things you mentioned."

Cody raised an eyebrow. "Well, I'm not even gonna go into the issue of insurance." He then met the other man's angry gaze. "So how would you care to explain how your car ended up at the scene of all these crimes?"

"I don' know." Stu sighed as he straightened up a little again. "Look, the guy who sold me the bloody thing came to my apartmen' over the pas' week and said he needed to borrow i'. He never kep' i' for long, though."

"So then I repeat, _who_ sold you the car?" Cody pressed, starting to get impatient. "An officer nearly lost his life to this man, so you'd better have a _damn_ good answer or else it's on _your _head."

Stu slammed his hand down on the table. "I _don'_ know!" he snapped. "A' tha' poin', I took all I could ge'. I think you'd do the same if you were in my position." He sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "Look, all I know is his name is Michael. Michael B. Who knows? I' could even be your missing singer."

Cody rolled his eyes, but he wrote the partial name down in his notebook anyway. However, he wasn't any closer to figuring out the original car owner's identity, and he knew it would take a lot to narrow down the list of all the "Michael B's" who lived in Chicago. "Where were you Wednesday night between eleven and midnight?"

"Oh, God." Stu sighed, leaning forward on the table again. "I was here."

"Can anyone confirm that?"

This time, it was Stu who rolled his eyes. "You can ask anyone," he told him. "Jeff the bartender. Mark the owner. Take your pick."

The officer sighed quietly, passing a thoughtful hand over his face as he briefly studied his notes. If what the Englishman said was true, that would rule him out as a suspect in the assault on Phil. That would leave Michael B. But since he wasn't getting any further with that lead for the time being, he would have to take a different approach.

"Why were you arrested?" Cody asked, looking back up at the other man.

Stu's eyes narrowed. "Wha' does _tha' _have to do with my car?" he questioned instead.

Cody shrugged slightly. "It doesn't have anything to do with your car," he admitted. "But it may help in our investigation. I need all the information I can get."

However, Stu just smirked as he straightened up again. "Why should I tell you when you'll jus' check my records later?" he wondered.

"Oh, I still will," Cody replied with a slight smile. "But this will make my job a little bit easier. Oh, and as of right now, the car that has been at all of these crime scenes is in _your _possession, and you can't give me the name of the man who sold it to you and potentially borrowed it for all of these incidents." He normally didn't like threatening people he was questioning, but sometimes he was left with no other option when they weren't being cooperative.

Stu's eyes narrowed slightly. "You wouldn'," he muttered. But when Cody just shrugged again, a look on his face that feigned innocence, the other dark-haired man sighed as he leaned closer to the officer and lowered his voice. "All righ', fine. When I was on the police force–!"

"You were an officer?" Cody asked, surprised.

"No, I'm jus' making i' up for a better story," Stu answered sarcastically with another roll of his eyes. "_Yes_, I was an officer. Well, kind of. I was only a rookie when I was discharged and arrested. Bu' I was young and naive. Always did as I was told. I go'... mixed in with the wrong crowd and was caugh' involved with drug trafficking, as well as drug use."

Cody looked at him for a long moment before he quickly wrote this down in his notebook. He remembered when Nick had updated him on everything that was happening with the car and its mysterious owner. It would take someone inside the system to be able to register a car under a fake name, and despite being an officer for only a short time, Stu would know at least that much. But not wanting to betray these thoughts to the dark-haired man, he cleared his throat before meeting his gaze again.

"Who was your mentor?"

At this question, Stu noticeably hesitated, and Cody's eyes narrowed slightly as the crooked-nosed man sighed heavily before he answered. "My mentor was Chris Irvine."

* * *

"Damn it! You _have _to be kidding me!"

Barbara sighed as she leaned back against the headrest of the seat behind her, slamming the steering wheel of her PT Cruiser with the palm of her hand in frustration. She had just stopped at the grocery store to pick up some things she needed for the week and was heading back to her apartment to get some sleep before going to her classes when her car had slipped out of gear and would not start again no matter how many times she tried. It had been her first car when she had turned sixteen, so it was about seven years old, but she realized she should have listened to Victoria and looked into getting a new one when the first signs of needing repairs had popped up a few months ago.

Groaning with frustration, the modeling student lifted her designer sunglasses to sit on top of her light blonde hair as she climbed out of the car, setting her hands on her hips as she looked it over carefully. She crouched down near the front, seeing that something was slowly leaking not too far away from the tires. Barbara lightly bit her bottom lip. She didn't know much about cars, but she did know that couldn't have been a good thing.

Sighing again, she rose to her feet as she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket, not knowing how she was going to get to school and work until she could get her car fixed. She supposed she could take the 'L' train like a lot of her classmates did since it shouldn't be too hard to learn the schedule. But then, she realized, she didn't even know who she could call about her car.

Then, Barbara glanced up when she heard a friendly _beep _of a car horn, and she watched as a black car pulled to a stop on the side of the road in front of hers. Then, a smile appeared on her face as she waved when the dark blond-haired man she had been getting to know stepped out and started to slowly make his way toward her.

"What are you doing out here, Barbie?" he asked as he returned the gesture.

"My car won't start," Barbara answered, fidgeting nervously with a strand of her light hair. "It feels like it slipped out of gear or something, and now it won't go anywhere. And there's something leaking... Here, look." She crouched down near the front of the car again as the man did the same next to her with a little difficulty, pointing out the puddle that was starting to form.

"Ah, yeah. That could be transmission fluid," the man muttered with a nod before he slowly straightened up again. "Pop the hood."

"Um, sure." Barbara climbed in behind the wheel again to do what he said, and the man pulled the hood open the rest of the way so he could look at what was underneath. She walked back over to to him, looking at the jumble of wires, hoses, and gaskets that made up the engine, really having no idea what it was she was looking for. The man, however, seemed to at least have some idea as he unscrewed a couple things to look better.

"Yep, definitely transmission fluid," he finally said, putting everything back in place. "You're really low on it, which is probably due to the leak. I'm afraid it's gonna cost a lot to repair, Barbie."

Barbara looked back at him nervously. "Well, I really don't have anyone to call about it," she replied. "My dad used to do all the repairs before I moved here to Chicago." Having grown up in Jacksonville, Florida with her parents, the night dispatcher was now starting to realize that she had taken her dad's mechanical knowledge for granted. But she knew moving to Chicago to attend one of their top-rate modeling schools was one of the best decisions she had made.

The man smiled at her as he slammed the hood closed. "Why don't I give my mechanic a call?" he suggested. "He usually offers payment plans for big jobs like this."

A relieved smile appeared on the modeling student's face. "Oh, my God, you're a lifesaver!" She then reached forward and hugged him tightly, causing him to chuckle as he patted her on the back.

"Not a problem," he assured her, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket. "Let me just give him a call."

Barbara nodded, leaning back against her car as the man proceeded to call his mechanic and ask for a tow, giving him her cell phone number after she relayed it to him for the contact number. She smiled slightly, relieved that he had been the one to find her.

"All right, they'll tow it within the hour," the man told her, ending the call before sliding his phone back in his pocket. "And he'll call you to talk about how you want to pay for it and when it'll be ready to pick up again."

"That's great to hear," Barbara said, her smile lingering. "Thanks again. So, so much. I owe ya big time."

The man returned the smile. "Ah, don't mention it," he replied. "As for right now, I can give you a ride if you need it. Where are you headed?"

Barbara nodded slightly. "Um, I'm just going back to my apartment so I can get some sleep before my classes start in a few hours," she explained. "If you don't mind..."

"Not at all."

"Great." Barbara opened the door of the backseat of her car and pulled out the few grocery bags she had gotten from the store, locking it up before following the man to his. She set them in the back before climbing into the passenger seat, putting on her seatbelt just as he began driving away.

The drive to her apartment didn't take too long, and the man found a spot near the front to park. "Here, let me help you," he offered, taking most of the bags from the backseat.

"Oh, you don't have to," Barbara said, taking the last remaining one herself before situating her backpack on her shoulder in a more comfortable way. "I can get it."

"Nah, I want to," the man replied with a smile, locking up his car. "I don't have anywhere to be."

Barbara smiled at him, brushing some loose strands of her light hair out of her face as she led the way up the short walkway to the building. It hadn't been the first time she had spent time with him, but it was the first time he had been to her place. She pulled open the door and held it for the man since his hands were fuller than hers before allowing it to shut behind them. The modeling student smiled and waved to the doorman from where he sat behind the desk in the large, well-lit lobby, the man with her nodding as well, before they reached the elevator and waited. A quiet _ding_ greeted them as the doors of the elevator on their right slid open, and the pair stepped inside before Barbara hit the button for the sixth floor. They didn't say anything as the elevator came to a stop, and she led the way out into the hallway after the doors slid open. The man followed her around a corner until they came to a stop in front of the door at the end of the hall, and the night dispatcher pulled her key out of her jeans' pocket and unlocked it before pushing it open.

Once inside, Barbara slipped off her shoes and left them on a rug near the door, the man doing the same as he shut the door behind him before he followed her down a hallway into the spacious living room and kitchen area. He nodded slightly in approval as he looked around at the long, angled couch with the television and computer set up across the room from it and the large windows that granted a lovely view of Millennium Park across the street.

"Nice place," he commented. "Roomy and comfortable with a nice view."

"Thanks." The modeling student dropped her backpack on the couch before setting her single grocery bag on the marble counter. The man turned away from the window and set the bags he was carrying next to the one she had already put down.

"Anything else I can do to help?" he wondered.

"Um..." Barbara glanced at the bags as she took off her sunglasses and set them on the counter too before walking around it to the refrigerator and taking a sip from a small bottle of cranberry juice. "If you just wanna put the cold stuff in the fridge, I really don't care where it goes. I'll take care of the rest. I just wanna go change real quick, if you don't mind."

"Nope, I don't," the man confirmed. "I know you need some sleep, and I'll be out of here soon."

Barbara smiled at him as she put the juice bottle back, briefly setting her hand on his shoulder before she walked past him and disappeared down the same hallway they had come from toward what he assumed was her room. The man took one last look out of the large windows before he went through all the grocery bags, pulling out a half-gallon of one-percent milk, a container of eggs, a carton of orange juice, and some celery sticks before walking over to the refrigerator. He noticed there wasn't too much inside as he easily made the new groceries fit before he shut the door, about to turn to go back to the counter to see if there was anything else he could put away before he paused when a sheet of lined paper hanging on the door by a magnet caught his eye. His eyes narrowed slightly as he took it off to look it over better, and his eyebrows shot up in concern when he realized what it was.

In her room, Barbara sighed as she put her jeans, t-shirt, and socks in her laundry basket before she straightened out the semi-long light purple t-shirt she wore for sleeping. She quickly ran a brush through her hair before standing in front of her full-length mirror, her brow furrowing slightly as she stood at different angles to get a good look at her body. But then she realized that she shouldn't stay gone for long since she should help the man put away the rest of her groceries since he had been kind enough to help her out.

"What is this, Barbie?"

Startled by the sudden quiet question, Barbara quickly turned to see that the man was standing in her doorway, holding a sheet of lined paper in his hand. She bit her lower lip nervously, knowing right away what it was. "Oh, that..." She slowly walked over to him and reached for it with a sigh. "It's nothing..."

However, the man pulled the paper out of her reach. "Barbie, what is it?" he repeated.

Barbara looked back at him hesitantly, running a hand through her light hair as she lowered her gaze. "It's to keep track of how many calories I get a day," she muttered. "I really can't have over a certain amount to be able to stay this way."

The man looked at her with concern as he set the sheet of paper down on the dresser next to him. "Barbie, do you realize how much stress you're putting yourself under?" he wondered. "That's not healthy."

"I know. But modeling is a really competitive business," Barbara told him. "They expect us to stay this way. If I don't stay in this shape, I won't get anywhere."

"So, what happens if you end up going over the amount you're being told to have?" the man asked quietly. When she didn't answer, he sighed and reached forward, setting a light hand on her cheek. This would explain why she often appeared so tired when he saw her, and it didn't have anything to do with her schedule. "Barbie, there are healthier ways to keep yourself in this shape. Have you talked to anyone about this? Your friends or coworkers? Classmates? An anonymous hotline or a nutritionist?"

Barbara slowly shook her head, still not able to look back at him. "My friends are so busy themselves," she answered. "I really can't talk to anyone at the station. It's not like they really care enough to ask how things are going there anyway. And no, I'm not calling any hotline or seeing a nutritionist. I have things under control."

The man's gaze saddened as he looked back at her. "Seeing a nutritionist doesn't mean you have a problem," he muttered. "It's a good thing. They can walk you through other ways to stay in this shape that would be better for you."

But Barbara still just shook her head as her gaze traveled to the mirror again. "I'm fine."

"Are you?" When he didn't get an answer from the modeling student, the man sighed as he placed his hands on her waist. "Here." He turned her toward the mirror and stood behind her, making her look. "What do you see?"

Barbara sighed quietly as she looked at their reflection. "Us?" she guessed.

However, the man chuckled quietly. "No, just look at you," he prompted.

"I guess." Barbara focused more on her own reflection, not quite understanding why he was doing this. "Um, I see an aspiring model who could maybe be a little more like her classmates."

"Not the answer I wanted to hear," the man said quietly. "Barbie, you have a little muscle, and that's a good thing. Do you work out?"

Barbara shrugged. "Sometimes with my friend Victoria," she replied. "But still, it's not good enough."

The man sighed. "Well, you're smaller than me, and that has to count for something," he muttered, causing a hint of a smile to appear on her face. "Besides, I think you look beautiful."

But the night dispatcher shook her head. "You're just saying that."

"No, I'm not." The man kept his hands on her waist as he slowly turned her around to face him. "Remember back when we first met? I said that modeling suits you, and I didn't say that just to be nice. I meant it, just as much as I mean when I say you look beautiful now."

A long moment passed before Barbara met his gaze. "You really mean it?" she wondered hesitantly.

The man smiled as he nodded, raising one hand and lightly brushing a thumb over her cheek. "Of course I do," he told her.

Barbara smiled slightly. "No one's really ever said that," she said. "Mainly it's 'you're okay,' or 'it's good enough,' or 'it'll work.'"

"And I know how stressful that must be," the man replied. "It's competitive. But just remember that there's at least one person who finds you beautiful the way you are."

Her smile broadened a little as Barbara reached forward and wrapped her arms around him, sighing quietly as he lightly rubbed her back. "That was important for me to hear," she muttered.

"I know." The man then pulled back a little as he tilted her face up toward him. "Believe me, I do."

Barbara nodded slightly before the smile on her face slowly waned. The man looked back at her, not stopping her as she pushed herself up on her toes slightly to kiss his cheek.

"You're the only one who knows about this," she whispered, lingering close to him.

The man chuckled quietly. "And who am I going to tell?" he wondered.

Barbara smiled slightly, sighing quietly before he leaned forward a little to close the small distance remaining between them, catching her lips with his own.

**Author's Note**: So, there you have it! Some interesting things going on here, and some clues were definitely in there. Did you spot them? Leave them in your reviews! Thanks for reading! Your reviews are greatly appreciated. Thank you!


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing associated with the WWE. Just any OCs!

**Summary**: AU. "Never take anything for granted. For everything can be taken away in a heartbeat." When a brutal attack causes Phil Brooks to lose his memory, he struggles to not only piece his life back together and regain what was lost, but also to discover who still wants him dead.

**Author's Note**: Hey, thanks for the reviews! Glad you're liking this and that you're picking up some clues. There's still plenty to be had as we continue. With that said, enjoy and happy hunting! :)

_Chapter 20_

"Do you remember Stu Bennett?"

Adam glanced up curiously at the officer who had stepped into Darren's office. "Yeah, he was Irvine's rookie while I was Chief," he answered. "Why do you ask?"

"I just talked to him at Dead Man's Tavern," Cody explained as he closed the door behind him. "He said he was arrested on drug charges?"

"That would be the case, yes," Adam muttered, lowering his feet from Darren's desk before he stood and stretched his stiff muscles. "Both on use and trafficking."

Cody nodded. "Yeah, that's what he told me," he said quietly. "How long was he a part of the force before he was caught?"

Adam's light eyes narrowed as he tried to remember. "It was a relatively short time, I think," he replied. "Probably about six months."

"Would that be enough time to know how to infiltrate a system and be able to register something under a fake name?" Cody wondered casually.

The former Chief of Police slowly turned to look at Cody, a slight flicker in his light eyes. "It depends on the individual," he muttered. "Why do you ask?"

Cody shrugged slightly. "Well, Bennett owns the car that's been a part of our investigation for over a week now," he told him. "However, he didn't get the registration changed, and it's still under the name of 'Michael Bolton.' Yes, after the singer, and we've determined it to be an alias since there's no one under that name in Chicago. But Bennett did tell me that whoever he bought it from was named Michael B. I've just been thinking that either Bennett's lying and he gave the fake name when he bought the car from the used dealership downtown, or that this Michael B. is the one who did. Or Michael had someone do it for him when he bought it."

A long moment passed before Adam ran a hand through his light hair and nodded slightly. "Good work, Runnels, though I can't say I'm surprised," he said. "Your dad and brother were intuitive too." Cody smiled slightly. "However, I don't think Bennett had learned enough to be able to have a fake name check out while buying a car. But why don't you go check out the dealership again? Find out some more there."

"That's what I was going to do, Sir," Cody confirmed. "Thanks."

"Good luck." Adam watched as the younger officer stepped out of the office and shut the door behind him before he slowly lowered himself into the chair behind Darren's desk again. A moment passed as he sat thoughtfully, drumming his fingers on the hard, wooden surface. Then, he reached forward and picked up the phone off its receiver, taking a deep breath as he quickly dialed a number and waited.

Cody started to make his way down the hallway toward the lobby of the police station, pausing briefly when Matt caught up with him. "So, where are we going now?" the rookie wondered.

"Well, I'm gonna head to the used car dealership downtown," Cody told him as he continued on. "I want you to stay here and try to sort down the long list of all the Michael B.'s I know there are gonna be in Chicago. Cross check them with criminal records, things like that. Even if it's an unpaid parking ticket, keep it on the list. I won't be gone long. When I get back, we'll go back to Dead Man's Tavern to see if we can catch the owner and look at that security footage." Mark Calaway hadn't returned to the bar after the officer had finished his discussion with Stu, having called in to say that he would be back later than planned because of something with his wife, and they had agreed to check back later.

Matt's slight smile faded. "Um, okay," he muttered. "Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?"

Cody smiled as he nodded. "Yeah, this is just gonna be a quick thing," he replied. "Plus, I want you to get a head start on this search. That would help me out more than anything. Okay?" When the rookie nodded, he patted him on the arm a couple times before he continued down the hall.

Sighing, Matt made his way to Phil's office, seeing that Trent Barreta was there and looking over something on his computer intently. He gave the other officer a slight nod when he glanced up at him before he sat behind his mentor's computer, logging into his account before opening one of the police databases as he passed a hand over his face.

He already knew it was going to be a nearly impossible search.

* * *

"What do you mean his memory's gone?"

Darren sighed as he ran a hand through his sandy-colored hair. "He doesn' remember who anyone is," he explained quietly. "He doesn' remember anything that's happened. He doesn' remember who he is. I've written his name down on a piece of paper for him so he'll know tha' I'm talking to him when I use i'." He paused, his gaze faltering slightly when he saw the tears that were quickly forming in the woman's eyes. "I know it's difficult to hear, and I wish I could tell you something differen'. Bu' I can'. Now, Phil has gotten familiar with me since I'm here quite a bi' of the time, but Jay doesn' wan' too many visitors just ye' since he doesn' wan' him to ge' overwhelmed with seeing people he seems to know he's supposed to remember and is frustrated tha' he can'. Bu' Jay also said tha' he thinks i' would be good for Phil to see you."

Lynne Brooks nodded slightly as she fought to keep her tears back. "Well, I can't thank you enough for being there for him, Darren," she muttered, her fingers trembling slightly as she brushed a couple loose strands of her short dark hair behind her ear. "That means so much to me... At least he has someone he can trust." She then paused as she took a deep breath, reaching out and taking the Englishman's hand when he offered it to her. "The memory loss... Is... is it permanent?"

The Chief gave her a small smile as he lightly squeezed her hand. "Jay doesn' think so," he told her. "As far as he can tell by tests they've been running, the head trauma Phil sustained wasn' quite as severe as they had originally thought, especially since he regained consciousness so soon. The fracture is showing signs of starting to heal, though it will take months ye' to heal completely, and the swelling in his brain has started to go down. Hopefully i' will just take some time for him to remember the importan' people in his life."

Lynne attempted a small smile, a look which waned as more tears filled her eyes. "It... it's almost like I've lost him anyway, Darren," she muttered, a couple escaping down her cheeks before she quickly wiped them away. "If he doesn't remember..."

"No." Darren tightened his hold on her hand a little. "Lynne, tha' is no' going to happen. You will ge' your son back."

A moment passed before Lynne took a deep breath and nodded slightly, her smile lingering a bit longer this time. "I suppose it's time to go see him," she said.

Darren nodded as he gave her a hopefully reassuring smile. "My only word of warning is to try no' to pressure him to remember anything," he replied. "Tha' will only stress him ou'."

"I won't, don't worry." Lynne's smile waned slightly. "I just need to see my son."

"Then I won' keep you waiting." Darren squeezed her hand one more time before he released it, and they both continued to make their way down the hallway.

Lynne could feel her nerves continuing to rise as they drew nearer to the door at the end, which she was all too familiar with now. She sighed quietly, attempting to will herself to remain calm. She had to be for her son.

The Chief reached the open door first, and a small smile appeared on his face as he glanced into the room. Phil was sitting up on the propped bed with his attention drawn to the television that was hanging on the wall across from him, looking better since he had been taken off of oxygen that morning when it was determined that he was able to breathe fine on his own. However, the IV was still attached to the crook of his arm to give his body enough nutrients since he had been eating very little since he had regained consciousness.

"Good afternoon, Phil," Darren said gently, his smile broadening slightly.

Phil looked away from the television at the sound of the familiar English accent, a small smile appearing on his face when he saw the Chief. But then, the look waned when he saw the dark-haired, petite woman beside him.

Lynne attempted to smile in return when his gaze remained on her, but it was difficult as she struggled to keep more tears from rising to her eyes. There was no recognition in Phil's eyes as he looked back at her. He may have looked like him, but this was not her son.

Darren took a deep breath as he fought to keep the smile on his face. "Phil, I brought someone with me tha' I'd like you to mee'," he said quietly. "This is Lynne."

Phil nodded slightly. "Nice to meet you," he muttered before his gaze was drawn back to the television when cheering could be heard.

The Chief looked down at Lynne, his gaze faltering when he saw her fighting to keep her tears back. "Would you like me to stay?" he asked.

Lynne, however, shook her head. "No, I'll be all right," she answered quietly, attempting to give him a smile.

"All right." Darren patted her on the arm before he looked back at Phil. "I'll come back in a little bi'."

"Okay." Aside from the one word answer, Phil didn't really acknowledge the Englishman's comment, and Darren stepped out of the room.

Lynne closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, forcing her tears back before she slowly made her way across the room. She lowered herself into the cushioned chair beside the bed and set her purse at her feet before she looked over at the television herself. "Who's winning?" she wondered curiously, seeing a baseball game was on.

Phil briefly glanced at her before he turned back to the screen. "The team with the dark shirts," he told her. "I don't know why the other team doesn't switch their player. He's let a lot of runs come in."

"Oh. Yes, they should definitely switch their pitcher then." Lynne glanced at the small table next to her, seeing there were two slips of paper on it. One she recognized as Phil's handwriting, though it was messier than normal, with Darren's name written on it along with baseball terminology. She figured the Chief must have discussed it with him, which she was glad about. At least he had something he seemed to be interested in that he had loved before the attack.

The other slip of paper, however, caused a thin line of tears to form in her eyes. In Darren's neater script was Phil's name.

"Do you like this game?"

The sudden question brought Lynne out of her thoughts, and she forced her tears back as she smiled when she saw Phil was looking at her curiously. "Yes, I do," she said. "We used to watch it together... ever since I brought you to your first game when you were little..." Her sentence trailed off when more tears rose to her eyes, and she looked away so he hopefully wouldn't see them.

Phil's eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at her with concern. "Are you okay?" he asked.

Lynne took a deep breath as she looked back at him when she felt as though she was back in control. "Yes, I'm fine," she answered. "Don't worry." She then looked at the screen herself. "Let's just enjoy this game, what do you say?"

"Sure." Phil, however, looked at Lynne for a moment longer before he sighed. "I'm sorry."

"For what, Phil?" Lynne wondered. "There's nothing to be sorry about."

Phil glanced at the slip of paper Darren had written his own name on before looking back at her. "No, I... I know you're someone I'm supposed to know," he muttered uncertainly. "I... I just..."

"Shh." Lynne reached forward and wrapped her hand around Phil's. "It's okay, honey. All I care about is you getting better."

A moment passed as Phil watched Lynne's thumb continue to gently rub his hand, and he sighed quietly as he met her gaze again. "Do you have a pen?"

"Oh, yes." Lynne let go of her son's hand as she pulled her purse onto her lap, digging around a little before she pulled out what he was asking for. "What do you need it for?"

"I just wanted you to write your name for me," Phil said, turning his attention to the two slips of paper on the small table next to them. "So I can have it."

Lynne smiled slightly. "Of course, honey," she replied. "Where do you want me to write it?"

Phil picked up the paper he had written Darren's name on and held it out to her. Lynne's smile broadened sightly as she took it from his proffered hand and set it back on the table after taking the cap off the pen to add her name to it. Phil watched as she shook it slightly to try to get it to work before he sighed again.

"Could... could you tell me something?"

"Of course I can." Lynne quickly ran the pen tip over the small corner of the paper until blue ink finally appeared as she looked back at her son. "What would you like to know, Phil?"

His hazel gaze faltered slightly. "You... you seem familiar to me," Phil muttered. "I... I can't remember..." He paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he struggled to try to recall who she was before shaking his head slightly and rubbing his forehead. "I... I feel comfortable with you here, and I don't know why. Could... could you please tell me how I know you?"

Lynne felt tears rise to her eyes once more, and she took a deep breath and quickly but neatly wrote her name on the paper that Phil had told her to as she tried to restrain them. Once she felt as though she could hold herself together, she looked back at him with a small smile. "I've known you since before you opened your eyes for the first time," she told him in nearly a whisper, her smile remaining through she could feel tears once again threatening to make themselves known. "I watched you grow from the infant I held into the man you are today, and I couldn't be more proud. I have always loved you and I always will, more than anyone else possibly could. I'm your mother."

Phil looked at her for a long moment before finally lowering his gaze, taking a deep breath as he passed a tattooed hand over his face. Lynne sniffed as she blinked her tears away, taking the cap off her pen as she brought the same slip of paper close to her again. She quickly wrote something else directly underneath her name and put her pen back in her purse before she lightly set her hand on Phil's arm.

"Here, honey," she whispered, waiting until he looked back at her before holding up the paper to show him. "You can call me by either of these two names here. Lynne or Mom."

"Mom," Phil repeated after she pointed the names out, his hazel eyes lingering on the second one she had written. "That... that seems familiar..."

Lynne smiled as tears filled her eyes when she set her purse on the floor again, a couple escaping despite her best efforts. Phil looked at her with concern before he leaned a little closer to her, and she slowly, almost cautiously, wrapped an arm around his back. When Phil leaned closer still, she wound both arms around him securely, making sure to be careful of the IV. She felt him lightly hold onto her, and she pulled him closer as she finally allowed her tears to fall as a near silent sob escaped from her.

Phil may have had no memory, but she was still able to see slight traces of her son.

* * *

"Oh, nos... I am goings to be in so much troubles..."

Cody sighed as he leaned forward on the secretary's desk in the lobby of the Auto Universe used car dealership, his intense, blue-green eyes narrowing slightly as he looked down at the Italian man. "Look, you're not going to be in trouble if you just answer my questions," he tried to tell him. "We are in the middle of an on-going investigation that includes the assault on an officer, and I have one of _these_." The officer paused, holding up the warrant for emphasis before setting it back down on the wooden surface with force. "You _need_ to tell me what you know."

Anthony Carelli continued to squirm under Cody's heated gaze, his hands wringing together nervously as his dark eyes quickly darted around and landed on anything other than the man standing in front of him. "I... I had no parts in anything..." he muttered. "Don't... don't arrests me... I'm justs the secretary for _Signor _Rodríguez..."

"I'm _not_ going to arrest you if you haven't done anything wrong," Cody said, his irritation only rising. He remembered Nick had told him that the secretary would be the best bet to get information out of, but it sure wasn't as easy as his partner had made it seem. But he definitely had to find out what was making him so nervous. "But if you don't answer my questions here, I'm going to have to take you down to the station for questioning, and I don't think you want that."

A look of clear panic appeared on Anthony's face, and he passed a slightly shaking hand over his face. "Looks, it's been almost tens years," he muttered, still not able to meet Cody's eyes. "_Signor _Rodríguez is no longers involved with the drugs since the incidents..."

"Drugs?" Cody repeated, his eyes narrowing again. "Incident?"

Anthony's eyes widened slightly before he covered his face with both hands. "Oh, nos. I've saids too much..."

Cody leaned forward on the desk. "No, Anthony," he replied. "You need to tell me about the drugs. And you can either do that here or downtown. It's your choice."

"Fines." Anthony looked up at Cody and took a deep breath. "_Signor _Rodríguez was involved withs... the uh... passings of drugs..."

"Dealing?" Cody wondered, trying to figure out what the Italian man was trying to say.

"Uh... kinds of," Anthony muttered, his brow furrowing slightly. "That was parts of its. There's another words..."

"Trafficking?" Cody ventured to guess.

"Yes! Traffickings," Anthony said with a nod. "That was its. But as I saids, I had _no _parts. I would always just turns my heads if the mans was heres. You see, I needs this job for my daughter..."

"All right, that's fine," Cody replied, his slight irritation showing through once more. "Tell me what you know about the trafficking."

Anthony sighed, looking nervously at the door that led to the manager's office behind him before turning back to Cody. "_Signor_ Rodríguez nevers used the drugs," he continued quietly. "He justs helped in the, uh, traffickings. There was an officers..."

"A police officer?" When Anthony nodded, Cody took a deep breath. "Would you know the name if I ran it past you?"

"You know the officers who was involved?" Anthony asked, seeming slightly surprised.

Cody nodded once. "I think so," he answered. "Was it an Officer Stu Bennett? Tall man with dark hair and a nose that looks like it's been broken at least twice?"

To the officer's surprise, Anthony's eyes narrowed slightly as he shook his head. Cody looked at the secretary in confusion. "There was someone else?" he wondered.

"The mans you described only cames a couples times," Anthony told him. "I barely remembers hims. There was another mans who cames all the times to deals with _Signor _Rodríguez. Definitely ins charge."

"Is he still an officer now?" Cody pressed, lowering his voice slightly as the rusty bell above the door reluctantly jingled when the door opened. "What does he look like?"

Anthony looked up at the officer nervously. "Wells, he hads–!"

However, he wasn't able to finish his sentence. Cody felt more than heard the presence looming behind him, and he only started to turn around before something heavy connected with the side of his head. He limply fell forward onto the secretary's desk before collapsing to the floor, his eyes closed as a thin trail of blood began to trail down his cheek from his hairline.

Groaning, Anthony covered his face with both hands and hung his head slightly. "Oh nos, oh nos, oh nos, oh nos..."

The door that led into the manager's office opened as Alberto Rodríguez stepped out, shortly followed by the assistant manager, Ricardo. He walked around the desk where Anthony was still mumbling quietly and looked down at the unconscious police officer, nudging him with his foot. "Was that really necessary?" he wondered, looking up at the dark-haired man who had entered the used car dealership.

"Afraid so," he said with a slight shrug, slipping the small handgun he had hit Cody with into the pocket of his black sweatshirt. "With what he knows, we really can't afford to take any chances."

Alberto sighed, passing a nervous hand over his face as he looked down at the officer. "You know, I haven't been involved with anything illegal for almost ten years," he muttered. "And if _this_ one goes missing, it'll bring more cops back here, and I can't have that."

"Relax, 'Berto," the dark-haired man replied as he crouched down next to Cody. "Just get rid of the warrant, and if they show up, just say that he never came here." He paused for a moment, glancing up at the Italian man behind the desk. "And that goes for your secretary too. He seems like he's ready to talk. He's already said quite a bit."

The manager glanced at Anthony, who was still muttering "oh nos" to himself as he shook his head slightly, before looking back at the dark-haired man. He didn't say anything as he watched the man take Cody's handcuffs off his belt before pulling his limp arms in front of him and cuffing his hands together.

"Just make sure that he will not be found, then," Alberto told him quietly.

The dark-haired man looked up at him and Ricardo from where he was still crouched next to Cody, a slight smirk appearing on his face. "Oh, don't worry," he said just as quietly. "He won't be."

**Author's Note**: Things aren't looking so good for Cody at the moment, are they? The guys seem to be getting closer than they think to an answer. Did you guys pick up anything that they may have missed? Feel free to leave them in your reviews! Thanks for reading! your reviews are much appreciated. Thanks!


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing associated with the WWE. Just any OCs!

**Summary**: AU. "Never take anything for granted. For everything can be taken away in a heartbeat." When a brutal attack causes Phil Brooks to lose his memory, he struggles to not only piece his life back together and regain what was lost, but also to discover who still wants him dead.

**Author's Note**: Hey, thanks for the reviews! There were a couple subtle clues in the last one, but they were kinda important with figuring out who's behind this. There will be some more in here and onward, so always be on the lookout. With that said, enjoy and happy hunting! :)

_Chapter 21_

Layla pushed her way through the door that led to the back offices, brushing some dark hair back from her face as she made her way toward her fiancé's office. She smiled slightly when a slight glint on her left hand caught her eye, the look broadening as she looked down at the silver, celtic knot patterned ring that had been given to her by Cody when they had both gotten home from the station a couple nights before. She still wasn't used to the addition on her ring finger, but at the same time, she felt as though she had been waiting for it to be there. The dispatcher was definitely happier than she had ever been when the man she had loved for the past four years had proposed to her, and she wasn't sure when the euphoria would wear off.

When she reached the office that belonged to Cody and Nick, she found the door was closed and quickly knocked. She had just gotten back from her lunch break when a call from Dead Man's Tavern came in for the former. However, Layla's eyes narrowed slightly when she got no answer, and she reached out to try the door handle, only to find it locked. She knew Nick wouldn't be there since he was still on paternity leave, but that didn't explain her fiancé's absence.

Thinking quickly about who had gone with Cody to the bar that morning, Layla made her way to the office Phil shared with Trent Baretta, finding this door to be open as she glanced inside. Trent was leaned back in his chair at his computer, snacking on a bag of ranch flavored chips as he read from _War and Peace_, the book he had been trying to get through on his break for the past few days. Matt Cardona was at his mentor's computer across the room from him, staring intently at the screen.

"Hey, Cardona, do you know where Cody is?" the dispatcher asked, causing Trent to glance up at her curiously before he went back to his book.

Matt raised his gaze from the computer, briefly rubbing his eyes before he focused on the Englishwoman. "Um, he went to that Auto Universe dealership," he answered quietly. "He should be back in a little bit."

Layla's dark eyes narrowed slightly. "He's still there?" she wondered. "He left a little over an hour ago."

"It's been that long?" Matt glanced at the time at the top of the computer screen and sighed. "Sorry, Layla, I didn't realize... I'm just really wrapped up in this..."

"It shouldn't take him that long," Layla muttered, pulling her cell phone out of her pocket to see if she had any missed calls or text messages from him that she hadn't seen. But there wasn't anything. "Well, Cardona, a call came in for him, but since you were at that bar too, I can just transfer him over to you if you'd like. It's someone by the name of Jeff Hardy."

Matt nodded slightly. "Yeah, he's the bartender at the tavern," he said. "Do you know what he's calling about?"

"Um, he said something about how the manager would be there tonight and security footage," Layla replied. "Do you know anything about that?"

"Oh, yeah. That means we can go check out the footage from the night Officer Brooks was attacked," Matt muttered. "Um, just tell him that we'll head over when Cody gets back, I guess..."

Layla nodded once. "Okay, I will. Keep up the good work, Cardona." She then turned away from the office and began to walk back down the hallway toward the lobby so she could relay the rookie's message to the caller. But finding out that Cody hadn't come back yet unnerved her slightly as she entered the lobby and sat down behind her desk, bringing the phone to her ear to speak to Jeff. She just couldn't fight the gnawing feeling that something was wrong.

* * *

The first thing he was aware of was that he was in motion. Cody's eyes slowly fluttered open, and he winced slightly when his head throbbed in protest. He started to raise his hand, pausing as dread flooded through him when he noticed that his own handcuffs were keeping his wrists together. Inwardly cursing, the officer lowered his hands and cautiously started to look around him, noticing that he was on the dark floor of the backseat of a car.

Then, the officer quickly looked up when he heard someone cough from in front of him, seeing the driver, who he assumed was the same man who had knocked him out back at the used car dealership, seemed to be frustrated about something as he continued to drive.

Cody quickly closed his eyes again when the man glanced back at him in the rearview mirror to keep up the appearance that he was still unconscious, but he kept his black hair, hazel eyes, and sharp features locked in his memory. He waited for what felt like a few long moments before cautiously cracking an eye open, seeing that the man was distracted, before he looked down at his arms again as a slight smirk appeared on his face. His captor may not have been quite as sharp as he had initially believed, for handcuffing his hands in front of him gave him a wider range of motion. He then started to check his pockets, trying not to make too much noise, only to find that his phone and gun were gone but his wallet was still there. His captor definitely wasn't as smart as he had initially given him credit for.

Then, a slightly crumpled piece of paper on the floor near his head caught his eye, and making sure the dark-haired man was still distracted, Cody quickly reached out and grabbed it, trying to smooth it out while making very little noise. At first glance, he could see by the seal that it was some sort of an official document, but whoever received it hadn't taken very good care of it since there were a couple large stains from either coffee or cola on it, a large chunk was missing from the bottom right corner, and there were a few smaller holes throughout the entire sheet. But despite all of that, the officer could still tell that it was an eviction notice, and he couldn't blame his captor for discarding it the way he had. But as Cody continued to look over the paper, his eyes widened when he saw the name of the man that it had been sent to.

"Damn!"

Cody quickly looked up at the dark-haired man, watching as he slammed the steering wheel in frustration. He then heard the tell-tale sound of the frustrated beeping of car horns around him, knowing that they must have been stuck in one of Chicago's finest downtown traffic jams. His captor continued to grumble under his breath, and with how slowly the car continued to inch forward, he wasn't going to be getting anywhere soon. The officer carefully set the eviction notice back on the floor, raising his blue-green gaze to the handle of the door above his head. He didn't know what his captor had in mind to do with him, but he knew that if he wanted to escape, now was the time to do it when cars were nearly at a stand-still.

Waiting until the car slowed to a stop, Cody took a deep breath as he quickly sat up and pulled up the lock on the back door. The dark-haired man immediately looked over his shoulder at the sudden noise, reaching for the glove compartment in front of the passenger seat when he saw that the officer was conscious. But his captor got it open just as Cody pulled on the handle and pushed the door open, rolling out onto the hard asphalt. He winced slightly when he cut his palms on the rough landing, trying to catch his breath as more car horns blared around him.

Then, he quickly looked behind him when he heard what sounded like a gunshot echoed around the packed street, his eyes widening slightly when he saw the dark-haired man who had taken him had pulled a small handgun out of the glove compartment and was aiming at him as he fired again. Cody instinctively covered his head as best as he could before he rolled onto his stomach and pushed himself to his feet, keeping lower as he tried to keep his head protected. A loud string of curses was heard from his captor behind him, along with more gunshots he was sure were aimed at him, and the officer soon made it to the sidewalk after being greeted by squealing tires and blaring horns when cars had nearly hit him in the slow-moving traffic. He immediately ducked into an alley as yet another gunshot rang out, covering his head when the bullet ricocheted off of a public mailbox next to him. He then slid down the brick wall until he was crouching, closing his eyes as he tried to catch his breath. The officer knew he couldn't linger long since the man might come after him since he had slipped through his fingers, but he smiled slightly at what he had noticed about his captor's car, which he had seen was a Chevy Malibu, in his escape attempt.

The last three digits of the license plate were _24H_. It was the same car they had been looking for, and he now knew the actual name of the man who owned it. He would have to get back to the police station as quickly as he could.

Cody quickly opened his eyes, still trying to settle his breathing as he lifted his heel and reached into his right shoe before pulling out the small spare key for his handcuffs. It was something Nick had always made fun of him for since he always said keeping it there had to be uncomfortable, but it was something he was grateful for now as he sighed with relief and rubbed his wrists to try to get the circulation moving back to his hands once he got the cuffs off. But then, he took one last look out at the busy street behind him to make sure the dark-haired man wasn't following close behind, and he put his handcuffs on his belt as he pushed himself to his feet and started running further into the shelter of the alley.

* * *

"Here you go, man."

"Thanks." Nick smiled slightly as he took the water bottle his best friend held out for him, unscrewing the lid and taking a quick sip.

Jake Hager returned the look as he sat down in the cushioned chair next to the one the officer occupied, watching as Nick silently surveyed the other occupants of the near silent hospital room in the dimming light of early evening. Charity, still exhausted from the day before, was sound asleep amidst the white sheets while Nicholas and Phillip were quiet in their small cribs.

"So, feel good knowing you're going home tomorrow?" the firefighter asked quietly so he wouldn't wake them.

"Yeah, definitely," Nick answered, absently passing the bottle from one hand to the other. "I'm still just... I don't know..."

Jake's smile broadened, knowing exactly what the other man was now feeling. He took a sip of his own water, happy for Nick that his sons were healthy enough to be able to go home so soon, as well as his wife. There was nothing more he could ask for.

Nick suddenly chuckled. "You know, I had to push the two cribs together since those two boys can't stand to be too far away from each other," the officer continued, his smile lingering. "I'm glad we still only have the one crib at the house. We'll have to wait until they're older to get them separate ones."

"Yeah, I've heard that's how twins are," Jake muttered, turning his in his chair to look at the cribs in question. He laughed a little himself when he noticed that both Nicholas and Phillip were lying toward the inner wall while they slept, which was as close as they could possibly be to each other. "I definitely remember the feeling of being a new dad, man. It's life changing, and definitely a lot to get used to. But we only had one, so..."

The officer arched an eyebrow as he turned to his best friend. "Yeah, I'm aware," he replied. "I seem to remember having to drive out to the hospital in the middle of the night when Cat went into labor." The other man laughed quietly again. But then, Nick sighed as he took another sip of his water before looking at the cribs himself. "You know, man, I can't explain it. I've only known them for a couple days, and... and I love them more than anything..."

Jake nodded in understanding as his smile returned. "I know that feeling, man. They're your sons."

A moment passed before Nick looked back at Jake, and the latter was startled to see a hint of a thin line of tears in the officer's eyes before they were gone. "So, Charity and I were talking last night," he said, pausing to clear his throat slightly. "And we were wondering if you and Cat–!"

Before he could finish his sentence, however, the sound of Nick's cell phone echoed around the hospital room. Muttering a couple of curses under his breath, the officer quickly pulled it out of his pocket before he stood and hurried out into the hallway, hoping not to wake his family as Jake watched after him curiously. However, his eyes narrowed slightly when he looked down at his phone and didn't recognize the number flashing on the screen. But, knowing it could be important, he flipped it open and brought it to his ear.

"Officer Nemeth."

_"Sorry if it's a bad time. I know you're still at the hospital."_

Nick's eyes only narrowed more at the familiar voice. "Cody?" he asked. "Where are you calling from, man?"

His partner sighed on the other end. _"A pay phone downtown," _he answered. _"But look, man. I just need to know if Darren's stopped by the station yet since I need to talk to him, and I can't get a hold of Lay since I don't have my cell, and I'm not getting an answer from her at the station."_

"No, man, where are you?" Nick pressed as he started pacing back and forth. "I can come and get you and bring you to the station. I think Darren's still here."

_"Don't worry about it. I was just gonna take a bus or something," _Cody tried to assure him. _"I don't want to take you away from your wife and kids, and I just need to know about Darren."_

However, Nick shook his head even though he knew the other man couldn't see him as he checked the pocket of his jeans to make sure that he had his car keys on him. "No, I'd rather just come and get you," he argued. "I'd feel better, and it'll be easier and quicker. If Darren isn't back at the station by the time I get you, I'll just bring you back here with me. Now where are you?"

Cody sighed with frustration. _"Fine. I'm near the entrance of the blue line."_

Nick mentally made a note of where the entrance to that particular subway line was, knowing it wasn't overly far from the hospital. "Okay, I'll be there in a little bit," he muttered. "But how'd you wind up there?"

_"It's a... long story," _Cody said somewhat hesitantly, and it was then Nick noticed that he sounded weary. _"Just... don't worry. I'll explain when you get here."_

"Okay. Hang in there, man." Nick ended the call on his cell and slipped it back in his pocket before walking back into the hospital room. He was relieved to see that Charity, Nicholas, and Phillip were still sleeping as Jake looked back at him curiously.

"So, there's a bit of an emergency," the officer continued quietly, picking up his water bottle from where it had been knocked over on the floor in his abrupt exit. "I'll be back in a little while. If Charity wakes up, just tell her that I was needed at the station for a little bit."

Jake nodded. "Everything okay?" he wondered.

"Yeah, everything's fine," Nick assured him, looking around the room to make sure he had everything. "I won't be long."

"All right, man."

Nick smiled slightly, preparing to leave the room. But before he could, he was stopped by a quiet, sleep-filled voice from behind him.

"... Nick?"

A smile appeared on his face as Nick turned around, seeing Charity was looking up at him with confusion from the bed. "Where are you going?" she wondered, rubbing her tired eyes.

"To pick up Cody and bring him to the station," Nick told her as he sat down next to her, taking his wife's hand in his. "I won't be gone too long since I'm not going to be doing any police work. I'm on leave, after all."

Charity nodded slightly. "All right. I'll see you when you get back," she muttered.

Nick smiled as he leaned forward and lightly kissed his wife's forehead. "I'll be back soon. And Jake will still be here while I'm gone."

"Oh, wonderful," Charity said with a roll of her eyes, causing the firefighter to chuckle.

The officer grinned. "Love ya."

Charity tightened her hand around her husband's slightly. "Love you too, hun," she replied, her smile lingering as Nick released her hand and quickly left the room.

Humming quietly to himself, Nick made his way down the hall toward the waiting room, pulling his car keys out of his pocket. When he turned the corner, he gave a startled gasp when he bumped into someone, dropping the keys to the hard floor.

"Sorry about that..." he began, but then a slight smile appeared on the officer's face. "Chief!"

Darren chuckled quietly as he bent over and picked up the other man's set of keys since they had landed closer to him. "No' a problem, Nicholas," he said as he handed them over. "I was just on my way ou' to check on everything a' the station since Phil's sleeping. But how are Nicholas and Phillip doing?"

Nick's smile broadened at the mention of his children. "They're doing fine," he replied. "Sleeping too, actually." But then, he remembered the phone call he had gotten that had caused him to leave the room. "Oh! Cody wants to talk to you."

The Englishman raised a questioning eyebrow. "Do you know wha' abou'?" he wondered. "I mean, I'm no' acting Chief a' the moment. Adam's in place to talk to a' the station."

The other officer shrugged. "Honestly, I have no idea," he told him. "It must be important, though. And he only wants to talk to you. I'm actually on my way to pick him up not too far from here and bring him to the station. I don't know what happened."

Darren nodded slightly before sighing. "Well, I'll stay there until you bring Cody, then," he muttered. "I wonder what's so importan' tha' i' has to be me."

"Your guess is as good as mine, Chief."

A moment passed before Darren smiled at the younger man. "Well, why don' you walk with me, lad?" he suggested as he started to make his way down the hallway again with Nick close behind. "We're going to the same place, after all."

The officer smiled as he followed after the Englishman, but then, the look waned slightly. "So, is there any improvement with Phil?" he asked quietly.

Darren sighed heavily as he shook his head slightly. "No' really," he answered just as quietly as they entered the waiting room. "Lynne visited him this afternoon. He really didn' know her, but he thought the name 'Mum' was familiar."

"Well, that has to mean something, right?" Nick pressed. "That has to be somewhat encouraging."

However, he didn't get a response from the Chief as they stepped out into the cool evening air. Nick sighed and lowered his gaze, feeling his stomach plummet. But then, he quickly looked up at the older man again when he heard him grumble under his breath.

"Oh, bloody hell..."

Confused, Nick looked ahead of them, sighing quietly himself when he saw a woman with a microphone in her hand was approaching them from the parking lot, a man with a large camera on his shoulder following along behind her. "What the..."

"The nasty buggers from the news team have been hanging around ever since Phil was admitted to the hospital," Darren explained quietly so only the other officer would hear him, his dislike clear on his face. "They wan' statements from me abou' the attack."

"Oh." Nick rolled his eyes as he and the other man were forced to stop when the reporter reached them and shoved her microphone in Darren's face since the camera was already rolling.

"Chief Matthews, is there any update on the condition of the officer who was assaulted a couple nights ago? Do you have any leads on who might have done this to him? Do you believe it was an isolated attack? Are they still at large?"

Darren took a deep breath and forced a smile on his face as he turned his attention to the woman after her slew of questions. "I'm afraid I have nothing to say a' this time abou' Officer Brooks' condition," he told her. "Though we have every reason to believe tha' there is no threa' to the public."

Nick tuned out the rest of what Darren was trying to patiently tell the persistent reporter, knowing that he wasn't going to release any news of Phil's condition to the media. It was that patience that was one of the many reasons he admired the Chief and was glad he worked for him.

Then, the younger officer noticed a dark Chevy Malibu pull up as close to the hospital as it could before stopping, its headlights remaining on them. Nick was about to turn his attention back to Darren, but then he paused when he noticed the license plate.

_A3L-24H_. It was the car they had been looking for.

"Hey, Chief..." Nick began, an unexplainable bad feeling forming in the pit of his stomach.

"One momen'," Darren said pleasantly to the reporter before he turned to the younger officer. "Give me a couple more minutes, Nemeth."

"But–!" However, Nick's response ended in a sigh when the Chief continued speaking to the reporter about how he had nothing to say. He then turned his gaze back to the Malibu, noticing the vehicle still hadn't shut off. Something wasn't right.

Then, the driver's door opened as a man wearing a black sweatshirt stepped out, the hood kept low over his face. Nick quickly averted his gaze so it wouldn't appear like he was staring, but then his eyes widened in horror when he saw the man pull out a small handgun and aim it directly at the Englishman.

"_Darren_!"

Sighing, the Chief turned to the younger officer. "Nemeth–!"

But he didn't get a chance to finish when Nick suddenly collided forcefully with him, both men starting to fall to the sidewalk just as a gunshot echoed in the still air around them.

* * *

Matt Cardona nervously stared up at the tall, well-built man in front of him, his long black hair tied back behind his head and his arms covered in sleeves of tattoos, as he looked over his police badge. Since Cody had not yet returned to the police station, Adam had just told him to return to Dead Man's Tavern alone since he would only be looking at security footage. But when he was met with the bar's owner himself, he instantly wished he would have had someone along with him.

"You sure this is real, boy?" Mark Calaway asked, raising his dark eyes from the identification to the younger man.

"Of... of course it's real," Matt stammered, trying to stand as straight as possible. "I'm an officer." But then, his gaze faltered as he slouched slightly. "Well, rookie actually. But see, my mentor's in the hospital, and the officer who was supposed to come with me hasn't come back to the station yet, and–!"

"All right, all right." An amused smirk appeared on Mark's face as he handed the badge back to Matt. "Let's go, ya little greenhorn."

Matt narrowed his eyes slightly as he put his badge back in his pocket before he followed Mark through the crowded bar. He nodded to Jeff behind the counter before coughing when he walked through a cloud of cigarette smoke. There were a couple times where he thought he was going to lose the bar owner in the large crowd, but it wasn't too hard to find the tall man with the ponytail.

Finally, they reached the back room, and Matt saw Mark was waiting for him with some impatience by the open door. The rookie walked into the room first, seeing it was small with an end table and a couple chairs against the wall.

"Have a seat, boy," Mark said as he shut the door behind him.

Matt walked the short distance across the room and sat in one of the chairs, watching as the bar owner made his way to where a mini fridge and television along with a VCR were set up across from him. He opened the fridge first and pulled out a cold bottle of beer, glancing over his shoulder at the younger man.

"Want one?" he wondered.

"Um, I probably shouldn't," Matt muttered, though he had to admit he was thirsty. "I'm on duty, after all."

Mark shrugged, pulling out a water bottle as well and tossing it across the room to him. He smirked slightly when Matt fumbled it before catching it, shutting the door with his foot before opening the bottle with just his hand. The rookie had to admit he was impressed as he took a sip from the water he had been given. That was one thing he had never been able to do.

"All right, so which night of footage are we watchin'?" the bar owner asked, taking a sip of his beer before he set it down and began looking through a few video cassettes that were stacked next to the VCR.

"This would be, uh, Wednesday," Matt answered. "Between eleven and midnight."

Mark was silent for a minute until he found the right video and slid it into the VCR. "Do you have a closer time of when the incident with the officer happened?" he pressed, turning on the television. "I don't know about you, boy, but I can't afford to spend an hour sittin' here watchin' surveillance footage."

Matt hesitated. "Unfortunately, I don't," he muttered. "I was off duty when the call came in..."

The bar owner looked clearly frustrated as he started the video, starting to fast-forward Wednesday's security footage from when the bar opened at ten. Matt took a sip of his water, his nerves rising the later they got into the day. He absently began to pass the bottle from one hand to the other, taking a deep, somewhat shaky breath.

When Mark finally reached the eleven o'clock hour, he stopped fast-forwarding before he grabbed his beer and sat down in the other chair against the wall with a sigh. The rookie glanced at him nervously before turning his attention back to the screen, knowing all he could do was wait to see anything.

Fortunately, they didn't have to wait very long.

"Wait, I think that's my mentor's car," Matt muttered as he leaned forward a bit at about seven minutes in, recognizing the black Camry that he had seen Phil drive stopped at a red light.

Mark perked up slightly, hardly daring to hope that was the case as he watched the dark car pull through the intersection by the bar when the light changed. The footage then cut to another camera's view, and the car slowed slightly before stopping across the street from Dead Man's Tavern.

"Why'd he stop?" Matt asked quietly, slowly rising to his feet before crossing the room to stand closer to the television.

"I don't know, boy," Mark answered with another somewhat frustrated sigh as he also got to his feet since the rookie officer's head was blocking his view of the screen. "Could've been anythin'."

Matt didn't really pay any attention to the bar owner's response, his focus remaining on the car toward the upper right hand corner of the screen. He thought he saw a small light from the driver's side door, knowing it could be from a cell phone, and wondered who he had been about to call and why.

But then, he jumped slightly when what appeared to be two men wearing dark sweatshirts with hoods to conceal their features rushed to the car from off-camera and shattered the driver's window. One reached in and seemingly unlocked the door before pulling it open while the second reached into the car. A moment passed before who the rookie recognized to be Phil was pulled out of the car, his right knee briefly getting caught in the seatbelt.

Mark slowly walked closer to the television as well, watching with narrowed eyes as the officer was then tossed roughly to the ground, one of the men bringing a heavy foot down on his hand when he reached for something. The second men then forcefully hit Phil across the face, sending him to the pavement before the first landed a few swift kicks to his torso.

"They're bein' very methodical," the bar owner muttered thoughtfully as Phil rolled onto his side and wrapped his arms around his abdomen. "This assault was planned."

Matt glanced back at the older man for a brief second before turning back to the screen in time to watch as Phil lunged his foot out and hit the taller of the two men in the knee, causing him to stumble, before the second man's foot connected with the side of his head. "Who... who would plan something like this?" he wondered in nearly a whisper.

Mark sighed as he turned back to Matt, setting his hand on his shoulder when he saw that the footage was growing more difficult for him to watch. "I'm afraid that's your job, boy."

They watched in silence as Phil then unsteadily pushed himself into a crouching position. Then, Matt's eyes widened in horror when he saw the shorter of the two assailants pull a small handgun out of his sweatshirt pocket and aim it directly at his mentor. He jumped slightly when he saw it go off, Phil collapsing to the ground.

"Oh, my God..."

Mark's dark eyes narrowed as the man then hit the officer on the side of the head with the same gun, seemingly adding insult to injury, before kneeling down and leaning close to Phil for a moment. He got back to his feet soon after, and they each grabbed one of the officer's arms and dragged him off-camera.

Matt continued to stare at the screen in shock as the bar owner walked past him, about to turn off the television. But then, the rookie's eyes widened once more as he reached a hand out after the older man. "Wait!"

"What?" Mark looked back at him in confusion, but Matt moved closer to the television screen as well. The dark-haired man turned to the screen, watching as the shorter of the two men, who now clearly had a slight limp, hurried over to Phil's car and sped away. The second man crossed the street before going off-camera again, a second car beginning to follow after the officer's.

"Pause it!" Matt said anxiously.

Still confused, Mark quickly pushed the pause button on the VCR. "What are you doin', boy?" he asked.

Matt's eyes narrowed as he looked at the car carefully. "Does that look like a Malibu to you?" he wondered as he glanced back at the bar owner. "A Chevy?"

Sighing quietly, Mark looked at the car closely. "So what?" he pressed. "It ain't unusual."

However, Matt just pointed toward the back of the car. "Is there any way to zoom in on the license plate?"

"It's a VCR, boy, not some state-of-the-art security system," Mark told him with annoyance. "The only way to zoom in on that plate is if the camera did, and that's somethin' they really don't do."

The rookie wasn't dissuaded, though, as he leaned closer to the screen and squinted to see if he could make out any of the digits. He smiled slightly when he was able to make out "3, 4, H."

"This car belongs to one of your workers," Matt explained as he turned back to the bar owner. "Officer Runnels and I saw it this morning. I'll need to speak to Stu Bennett."

Mark sighed as he crossed his arms. "Look, boy, I know what you're thinkin'," he said. "But Bennett was here that night. I remember because–!"

Matt looked back at him when the bar owner's sentence abruptly cut off. "Because why?"

However, Mark didn't respond as he hurried past the rookie and opened the door of the small room, leaning out into the much more spacious one. "Glenn!" he shouted.

The rookie watched as Glenn Jacobs, the bald head of security at the First National Bank, appeared across from Mark. He smiled slightly and nodded to Matt, a look which the younger man returned, before he faced his stepbrother. "What?" he asked.

"I need you to grab Jeff for me," Mark answered quietly. Glenn nodded before he disappeared from sight. The bar owner then turned back to Matt. "I remember because he was late for work. He really couldn't give me a good reason why. He seemed nervous that night too. And I don't know when his break was, but it's possible it could have been between eleven and midnight."

Matt's eyes widened slightly in understanding, but before he could say anything, they both turned to the door as the bartender, his purple-hair tied back in a messy bun behind his head, walked into the room. "Sorry, Mark, but we've gotta make this quick," Jeff Hardy muttered. "I've got people lined up at the counter. What's up?"

"Did Bennett come into work today?" Mark wondered. "He was supposed to, but I don't remember seeing him."

Jeff's green eyes narrowed slightly. "No, I don't think he did," he replied. "I haven't seen him, but I assumed he had the day off."

Mark cursed heatedly under his breath. "All right, Jeff, thank you," he said. "You can go." The purple-haired man hurried away as the bar owner turned to the rookie. "This is gonna be Bennett's third strike comin' up..."

However, Matt really didn't hear the bar owner. "I need to get back to the station," he muttered. "I have to talk to my Chief, and we'll see if we can hunt down Bennett."

"Boy–!" Mark began, but he stopped with a sigh. The rookie was already gone.

**Author's Note**: So, things are still working at a pretty fast pace, and we won't be slowing down for a while. Any clues spotted or any theories, feel free to leave them in your reviews. Thanks for reading! Your reviews are much appreciated. Thank you!


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing associated with the WWE. Just any OCs!

**Summary**: AU. "Never take anything for granted. For everything can be taken away in a heartbeat." When a brutal attack causes Phil Brooks to lose his memory, he struggles to not only piece his life back together and regain what was lost, but also to discover who still wants him dead.

**Author's Note**: Hey, sorry about the delay in updating. Things have been hectic. But anyway, keep a sharp eye out for clues as we continue along. Enjoy and happy hunting :)

_Chapter 22_

Darren winced when he hit the hard pavement, Nick next to him, as the panicked voices of the reporter and the cameraman echoed around him. He quickly opened his eyes in time to see what appeared to be a Chevy Malibu speed away from the hospital parking lot, noticing that the woman who had tried to interview him was ducking for cover behind a bush nearby along with the man with her from the news station.

But then, he remembered why he was lying on the ground to begin with, and he quickly turned to look at the officer who had landed behind him. "Wha' the _devil _did you think you were doing?!" he demanded angrily.

At the sudden loud voice, Nick slowly opened his eyes, wincing slightly as he looked up at Darren. "Sorry about that... Chief..." he muttered. "I couldn't just let..."

However, Darren's stomach plummeted when he noticed how pale the younger man's face was as his eyes started to close again, and his own eyes widened with horror when he saw the blood blossoming on Nick's t-shirt near his right shoulder. He felt a surge of panic when he remembered the gunshot, realizing the firearm must have been aimed at him and not the younger man, and he reached forward and set his hand securely on his arm.

"Nicholas, come on," he said anxiously, shaking him gently. "Open your eyes, lad." However, he got no response from the other officer.

Cursing heatedly under his breath, Darren lifted Nick into his arms as gently as he could before he rose to his feet, not even noticing as the reporter and cameraman were starting to make their way out from their makeshift hiding place as he hurried the younger man back into the hospital.

* * *

Layla sighed as she slipped her purse over her shoulder, knowing that Barbara would arrive at the station soon to take her place. She worried her bottom lip between her teeth, picking up her light sweatshirt and draping it over her arm as she leaned against the corner of the desk and sighed quietly. Adam had told Matt to leave for Dead Man's Tavern a little under an hour before to see if anything could be found in the security footage that give them any clue about Phil's attack, and Cody still had not returned from the used car dealership. She pulled her cell phone out of her purse since it was nearly the end of her shift, scrolling through her contacts until she reached her fiancé's number and tried calling again.

_"This is Cody. I'm unable to..."_

Starting to get really worried now, Layla slid her cell phone into her pocket and closed her eyes, brushing a hand through her dark hair. It was unlike Cody to not answer his phone, unless he was unable to.

The dispatcher heard the doors of the station slide open, slightly relieved knowing that she could at least now go home since her replacement was there. "So, Barbie, Darren called about twenty minutes ago to say he should be here within the hour," she started automatically. "If you have any questions–!"

However, her sentence was abruptly cut off when a pair of hands suddenly landed on her shoulders, and Layla quickly opened her eyes to find a familiar pair of blue-green orbs looking back at her. "_Cody_?!"

A weary-looking Cody nodded in return as he took a deep breath. "Yeah, I'm here," he muttered. "Took me a little longer than expected since I caught the bus, but..."

Layla looked over the officer quickly, setting a hand on his cheek when she noticed the dried trail of blood that started at his hairline. "Oh, God, Cody. What happened?" she pressed anxiously. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Cody told her with a small smile. "Don't worry, Lay." He paused and took a deep breath when his fiancée hugged him tightly, and he pulled her close and rested his head against hers. "It's a long story, but I need to talk to Darren."

A moment passed before Layla met Cody's gaze, keeping her arms around him. "Well, as I said, he should be here within the hour," she replied. "He was going to leave the hospital since Phil was sleeping. But Adam..."

She stopped when Cody shook his head. "I'd rather talk to Darren. He would know the answer that I need."

Layla looked at him curiously, but before she could say anything further, the doors of the station slid open again as Matt stepped into the lobby, looking anxious, with Barbara walking a few steps behind him. "Hey, is the Chief here yet?" the rookie asked.

"Not yet," Layla answered as she released Cody. "But he should be here soon. He said he was leaving the hospital. But Adam's here if you need to talk to him."

Matt nodded slightly as he stopped near the couple to catch his breath, nodding a couple times. "Yeah, I might just do that..."

Layla chuckled quietly before she turned her gaze to the young modeling student, watching as she set her backpack on the floor before sitting in the chair behind the desk with a sigh. "Are you okay?" she wondered, noticing she looked exhausted.

Barbara looked up at Layla and gave her a small smile. "Yeah, I'm okay," she told her quietly, straightening up in her seat slightly as she logged into her account on the computer. "Just kinda tired. My car broke down as I was on my way home from the store this morning, so things have been pretty hectic."

Matt's eyes narrowed slightly. "Do you want a ride home in the morning, Barbie?" he offered. "I think your shift ends pretty close to when mine starts."

"Thanks, Matt, but you don't have to," Barbara told him with another smile. "I'll just take the train. It'll get me pretty close to my apartment."

The rookie nodded slightly. "If you're sure," he muttered. "I wouldn't mind."

Barbara laughed a little. "I know," she said. "But I'll be all right."

"Okay then." Matt then turned to where Layla was still quietly fussing over Cody, raising an eyebrow when he saw the dried blood as well as the faint bruise that was forming near his right eye. "You all right, man? What happened at the car dealership?"

Cody smiled slightly. "Things went a little... awry," he replied. "Sorry it took me so long to get back. Did you end up getting to Dead Man's Tavern without me?"

"Yeah, Adam sent me." Then, the rookie's eyes suddenly widened. "Dude, so we watched the security footage, and there were two guys who attacked Phil!"

"Two?" Layla repeated, her eyes narrowing slightly.

Matt nodded in confirmation. "Yeah, and even Mark was saying that it looked premeditated," he continued, his gaze returning to the officer. "One of them drove away in that Chevy Malibu we've been looking for afterward while the other took Officer Brooks' car. He was also saying that Stu Bennett was acting somewhat suspicious the night that he was attacked. He hasn't shown up at the bar today either."

Cody looked thoughtful for a moment before he nodded. "So, are you thinking that Bennett is one of the people who attacked Phil?" he wondered.

"It's certainly looking like it's possible," Matt confirmed. "It wouldn't surprise me. There's something I really don't like about that guy. We should check it out more. We'll just have to find this other one."

The dark-haired officer nodded, though a small smile returned to his face. "I'm almost certain I know who this other guy is and where to find him," he muttered. "I've found our Michael B."

Matt's eyes widened. The few hours he had spent that afternoon trying to find all the men in Chicago with that name who had something as simple as an unpaid parking ticket or an overdue library book had been for naught. "You _found _Michael B.?!"

"Almost positive," Cody told him. "I could see where he got the Michael Bolton alias from. And plus he was driving that car that Bennett bought when I... uh, saw him. I'm sure it's the guy who sold it to him."

The rookie continued to look at Cody in disbelief while Layla turned to her fiancé with an arched eyebrow. "Where exactly did you see this... Michael B.?" she asked quietly. Even Barbara looked up from the computer screen with interest.

Cody sighed, but before he could figure out a suitable answer to appease her, the doors of the station slid open again. The group of four all turned to see who had entered the lobby.

"Chief!"

Startled by the unexpected loud greeting, Darren stopped and looked back at his workers with raised eyebrows. "Hello to all of you," he replied, though his usual light tone wasn't there.

"Are you all right, Darren?" Layla wondered, noticing that his mind seemed to be elsewhere.

"Fine, luv," the Englishman said, brushing her concern aside. "I apologize tha' i' took me longer to leave the hospital than I had planned. Phil's doing all right, just sore, which isn' surprising. But Nicholas just go' ou' of surgery, and–!"

"Surgery?" Cody repeated, his eyes widening with worry. "What happened? Is he okay?"

"Yes, he will be fine," Darren assured him, turning to the younger man. "He–!" But then, he paused as his eyes narrowed slightly when they landed on the dried blood on Cody's cheek and the bruise by his right eye. "Wha' happened, lad?"

Cody briefly touched the bruise before he smiled. "Don't worry, I'm okay," he muttered. "But what happened to Nick?"

The Chief sighed. "Well, I was leaving the hospital to check on everything here, and Nicholas was leaving to go ge' you, but we were stopped by a news reporter to ge' information on Phil," he explained. "And I didn' notice i', though I should have, bu' a car had pulled up close to where we were. And..." He hesitated for a moment. "And apparently the driver had a gun and was trying to shoo' me, but Nicholas noticed and tackled me ou' of the way. Fortunately, the bulle' didn' hi' any critical areas, and he's expected to make a quick and full recovery."

The dark-haired officer sighed with relief as he tightened his hand around Layla's. "Well, at least he's on paternity leave as well," Cody muttered. "We don't have to deal with his complaining." The lighthearted comment even brought a slight smirk to Darren's face.

Matt looked at the Englishman thoughtfully. "Chief, was the car a Chevy Malibu?" he asked.

Darren turned his attention to the rookie. "I only briefly saw the car, but I believe so, yes," he answered. "Why do you ask, lad?"

"Cody, it makes sense!" Matt turned to the other officer excitedly. "We must be getting close to finding this Michael B. as well as figuring out his plan with Bennett. He feels threatened! Why else would he do something like try to take out our boss?"

"Yeah, it could be," Cody agreed quietly. "I just don't want to jump to any conclusions."

Darren looked from Matt to Cody with a raised eyebrow. "You've found your Michael Bolton?" he wondered, knowing the alias had been frustrating his officers for quite some time.

Cody nodded. "I'm almost positive," he confirmed. "And–!"

"We think he's one of the guys who attacked Phil," Matt quickly added.

The Englishman's eyes narrowed slightly as he looked back at the two officers. "One of them? There was more than one?"

"There were two," Matt explained. "From what I saw of the security footage from the bar, the assault seemed planned. It was almost like they were waiting for Officer Brooks. And along with this Michael B. that Cody said he found, our other person of interest is a man named Stu Bennett, someone who works at Dead Man's Tavern who's on parole."

At the sound of the former officer's name, Darren's gaze darkened. Cody noticed his expression change and nodded slightly. "I know he used to be Irvine's rookie," he muttered. Layla and Matt both looked at him, startled.

Darren nodded slightly. "Tha' he was," he said. "Are you certain tha' he would be a person of interest?"

"It's very possible," Matt replied. "His boss was saying that he's been acting a bit strange these past few days, ever since Officer Brooks was attacked."

"Well, keep looking into i', Matthew," Darren told him. "When we have some more evidence leading to Benne', we'll work ou' an arrest warran'." He then turned his attention to Cody. "Who is this Michael Bolton you think you've found, lad?"

The dark-haired officer met the Chief's gaze. "We need to talk, Darren."

Darren, catching the severity of his tone, nodded slightly. "All right, to my office."

Cody nodded in return, squeezing Layla's hand and leaving a light kiss on her cheek before he followed the Englishman through the door that led to the back offices. They walked down the narrow hallway together, and the older man turned to the younger with concern.

"Wha' happened, Cody?" Darren asked.

Sighing, Cody met his gaze. "I learned some interesting information at the used car dealership," he answered quietly.

Darren arched an eyebrow. "And wha' would tha' be?"

"Well, from the secretary there, I learned that the owner, Alberto Rodríguez, used to be involved with drug trafficking," Cody explained. "He would never use them, so my guess is the dealership was used as the holding place until the intended recipient could retrieve them."

"All right, wha' else?" Darren pressed.

"I know Bennett was dismissed and arrested on drug use and trafficking charges," Cody continued. "He told me that when I talked to him at Dead Man's Tavern about the Malibu since he owns it now. It was sold to him by Michael B., but he never got the registration changed, hence why it's still registered to Michael Bolton.

"But the secretary at the dealership told me that Bennett would only go there to get the drugs on occasion. He barely remembers him. There was another officer who would primarily deal with Rodríguez. Bennett told me he was involved with the drugs because he got mixed up with the wrong crowd and was naive enough to do as he was told. By any chance, would you remember who Bennett spent a lot of time with on the force?"

Darren sighed. "Well, I wasn' Chief when Benne' was on the force," he said. "If I had been, I could probably tell you with more certainty. He spen' most of his time with Irvine when he was on duty since he was his mentor. Bu' I'm sorry, I couldn' tell you who he spen' his time with when he was off duty. Benne' and I never really saw eye to eye. He was always known for being rash."

Cody smiled slightly. "That's okay, Chief," he replied. "It really has nothing to do with our investigation anyway. I was just curious."

"Still, I wish I could answer your questions, lad." Darren smiled slightly himself, his gaze faltering slightly when it landed on the dried blood on the younger man's cheek and the bruise near his eye. "So, where did you get tha'?"

The slight smile disappeared from Cody's face. "The secretary was about to tell me what the officer who would come in to deal with the drugs looked like," he muttered. "And someone came in, I didn't see who, and something hard connected with the side of my head. The next thing I knew, I was lying in the backseat of a car stuck in my own handcuffs."

Darren immediately came to a stop where they weren't far from his office, looking at Cody with worry. "Are you sure you're all right?" he wondered. He had dealt with his fair share of head injuries over the past few days.

Cody nodded. "I'm fine, Chief," he tried to assure him. "Just a bit of a headache, that's all. And I was able to escape, so..."

Sighing with relief, Darren set his hand on the younger man's shoulder as he started to lead him toward his office. "All right, lad. Let's–!"

"Chief."

Darren stopped again at the quiet tone of the officer's voice as he looked back at him. "Wha' is i', Cody?" he asked.

Cody took a deep breath. "The car I was in was a Chevy Malibu, and I'm certain it was the same one we've been looking for," he answered. "I saw the last couple digits of the license plate when I escaped. And there was a piece of mail in plain sight in the backseat. That's how I learned Michael B.'s real name. Not only was he the owner of that car, but as Matt and I have discussed, we're almost sure he's one of the people who attacked Phil since that same car was used as a getaway vehicle after the assault. But... that's what I need to talk to you about."

The Englishman looked back at the dark-haired man for a long moment, noticing how hesitant he was. But before he could say anything, both Darren and Cody looked up when the door to the former's office opened as Adam stepped out into the hallway with his cell phone at his ear.

"Yes, I saw that," the former Chief was saying to whoever was on the other end. "And–!" However, he paused when he saw the two men watching him curiously. "Darren! Oh, my God, are you okay?"

Darren's eyes narrowed slightly in confusion. "Yes, I'm fine," he said. "Why wouldn' I be?"

Adam held up a finger to signal he needed a minute before he turned back to the phone conversation he had been having. "I'll call you back, man," he muttered before he flipped his phone closed and slid it into his pocket. "It was on the news, Darren. I was really worried..." He ran a hand through his blond hair as he opened the door a little further and pointed to the small television the Englishman kept in the corner of his office.

Curious, Darren and Cody both leaned forward to look at the screen, seeing it was footage from the hospital when Nick had tackled the Chief to safety as the sound of a gunshot broke through the speakers. "Um, yes. I'm fine, Adam," the Englishman stated, giving the other man a small smile. "I was unharmed. Officer Nemeth will be fine as well. He's expected to recover quickly."

"That's good to hear." Adam briefly returned the smile before it faltered slightly. "It seems like a rash thing to do though, doesn't it? To open fire on the Chief of Police like he did?"

Darren nodded slightly, a thoughtful look passing over his face. "I' was definitely a drastic action," he agreed quietly.

"Yeah." Then, Adam smiled again as he patted Darren on the shoulder. "Well, I'm glad to see you're all right and that your officer will be too. I was just gonna get a quick snack from the vending machine downstairs. Um, we can talk about how things have been going around here when I get back?"

"Sounds good, Adam," Darren replied with a small smile of his own.

Cody watched as the former Chief of Police gave him a slight nod before he started to walk down the hallway, turning to Darren when the Englishman gestured for him to enter the office first. The dark-haired man slowly walked in and sat down in the chair in front of the desk as the Chief closed the door behind them before walking across the room to the television.

"We don' need to have this on," Darren muttered, turning it off before he sighed and sat down behind his desk across from Cody. He then reached under it to where he kept a mini refrigerator and pulled out a small water bottle and a napkin out of a drawer before handing them both to the officer. "Here, lad."

Realizing what he was doing, Cody took the proffered items and unscrewed the lid of the bottle. "Thank you," he said, carefully pouring some water onto the napkin before starting to rub at the dried blood on his right cheek.

Darren nodded in return as he watched the younger man for a moment. "So, this Michael B. is the one who kidnapped you, and you believe he was also involved in the attack on Phil?" When Cody nodded in confirmation, the Englishman sighed as he passed a hand over his face. "Well, if anything, we can arres' him on charges of kidnapping an officer, and that's a start. But you wanted to talk to me abou' his real identity?"

"Yeah, because it's not Michael Bolton," Cody replied lightly, making the Chief chuckle quietly. But then, the cheerful look vanished slightly as he folded the napkin and poured some more water on it. "Darren... does Phil have a brother?"

An unreadable look crossed the Englishman's face, and Cody hurriedly continued, "I mean, I've been friends with Phil since we were both in the Academy, but his family is something he's never really talked about. He hasn't mentioned any siblings other than Cheline and Natalie, but I'm just wondering..."

Darren sighed as he folded his hands tightly on the desk in front of him. "Phil is close to his sisters," he explained quietly. "But yes, he does have an older brother. He probably never talked abou' him because he turned his back on the family years ago after stealing money from their father as well as from Phil. They haven' even seen him in over ten years. Bu' his name is Michael." He paused for a moment, raising an eyebrow. "Why do you ask?"

Cody took a deep breath. "Remember that piece of mail I said was on the back floor of the Malibu?" he pressed. "It was an eviction notice addressed to a man named Michael Brooks."

The Chief thoughtfully worried his bottom lip between his teeth. "Michael B.?" Cody nodded. "Well, I could see where the alias of Michael Bolton wouldn' be too difficult for him to use. Bu' unless he had the knowledge of how to infiltrate a system, I'm no' sure how he could register a car under tha' name."

"Well, either Bennett, who bought the car from Michael, could have helped him, or Rodríguez let it slide," Cody suggested. "It wouldn't be too much of a stretch since it's not the first shady thing he's been involved with. But either way, Bennett wasn't the one driving the car when I was kidnapped, and he said that the only other person who uses it is the one he bought it from, Michael B."

Darren nodded, but then his gaze faltered. "Well, as I said before, we could ge' him on charges of kidnapping an officer," he said. "Tha' way, we can try to find ou' wha' part he played, if any, in Phil's assault. All right. I'll file an arrest warran' for Michael Brooks."

* * *

The dark-haired man slowly made his way down the bustling hospital hallway, his hazel eyes set intently on a door near the end of the hall on his right. Getting past the nurse at the front desk had been easy enough, for the charm he supposedly possessed had always been an asset to him. It had worked well on all the women he had met in his life, at least.

A slight smirk appeared on his face as he stopped in front of the door, glancing up and down the hallway for a moment to make sure that no one was paying him much attention before he slowly reached out and turned the handle. His initial plan of getting the Chief of Police out of the way had backfired, but since he had left to go back to check on everything at the station, his goal was still met. The man he was paying a visit to was now left vulnerable and unguarded.

He quietly pushed the door open, seeing that the television on the wall was on and showing an evening baseball game. Lying in the propped bed across the room from it was Phil Brooks, his eyes closed as he slept.

The dark-haired man stepped into the room, shutting the door just as quietly behind him so he wouldn't wake the officer. He turned his hazel gaze to the bed, hesitating for only a moment before he slowly started to make his way across the room. He stopped beside the bed, looking over the familiar bruised, scruff-lined face of its occupant, which was peaceful in sleep, as Phil remained oblivious to the world around him. The man found himself feeling slightly relieved. At least this way, his task would be easier on both of them.

A moment passed as he simply listened to the quiet, steady _beeps_ coming from the heart monitor Phil was hooked up to before he reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a small pocketknife. The blade glinted in the light when he flipped it open, and the man sighed quietly as he began to move it closer to the unknowing officer.

**Author's Note**: And... that's it. Sorry for the cliffhanger! I know, I'm evil. But any clues? Feel free to leave them in your reviews! Thanks for reading! Your reviews are much appreciated. Thanks!


	23. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing associated with the WWE. Just any OCs!

**Summary**: AU. "Never take anything for granted. For everything can be taken away in a heartbeat." When a brutal attack causes Phil Brooks to lose his memory, he struggles to not only piece his life back together and regain what was lost, but also to discover who still wants him dead.

**Author's Note**: Hey, guys! Sorry for the delay in posting. Life has been super hectic lately. But, after that evil cliffhanger, here I am with another chapter! I'd say that we're in the final stretch here with about only seven or eight more chapters to go. So, as always, keep an eye out for clues as we continue! The answers about who have done this to Phil will be revealed soon, but see if you can figure it out first! Enjoy, and happy hunting :)

_Chapter 23_

Cody tightened his hands around the steering wheel, his eyes resting intently on the darkening road ahead of him as he sped down it with the sirens of his squad car blaring. He had just pulled off the interstate heading away from the bright lights of downtown Chicago and into the Rosemont subdivision, making his way toward the residence of Michael Brooks. Phil had never mentioned any other family living in the area, but with as big as the city was, the older Brooks could have lived there ever since he left his family without them even knowing.

Matt sat in the passenger seat beside him, looking over the couple sheets of paper in his lap that contained the address, Michael's picture, directions, and an arrest warrant. Darren had showed his picture to Cody when he brought him up in the system, and he had been able to confirm that this was the same dark-haired, hazel-eyed man who had kidnapped him.

"Um... go right, go right," the rookie suddenly said as they neared an intersection.

Cody immediately turned the wheel, causing Matt to grab onto the arm rail as they made a sharper turn than he had planned. Fortunately, all the cars on the street were moving out of the way for them. "Where next?" he wondered, not wanting to call it so close at the next set of directions.

"Uh..." Matt squinted a little to read the sheet Darren had given them in the minimal lighting. "At the second light we come to, turn left."

"All right." The dark-haired officer glanced over at the rookie. "You nervous?"

Matt slowly looked over at him, sighing heavily. "A little bit," he confirmed. "I mean... you know..."

Cody nodded slightly in understanding. "I felt the same way before my first arrest," he muttered, quickly looking up and down the road they were approaching before he sped through the red light. "But it's all part of the job. It's something that gets a bit easier the more you do it." He paused for a minute. "And I know it's something you would normally go through with your mentor, but just follow my lead."

The Long Island native nodded, taking a deep breath. "So, the guy we're going after is Officer Brooks'... brother?" he asked.

"Yep," Cody answered as he turned left at the next major intersection they came to. "As the warrant says, we're getting him for the kidnapping of an officer, so I don't want you to mention anything about the assault on Phil. We'll question him about what part he could have played in it when we bring him back to the station."

"Okay, sounds like a plan." Matt's gaze faltered as he looked back at the dark-haired man. "If... if he was one of the two guys who attacked Officer Brooks... how could he do something like that to his own brother?"

Cody sighed as he slowly shook his head. "I have no idea, Matt," he muttered. "But that's what we're gonna find out. Where to next?"

"Um..." Matt quickly looked out the window at the swiftly passing street signs. "Turn left again in two streets, and then turn right at the first street we come to. It should lead to a dead end, and it'll be the last house on the left."

"All right." Cody turned left on the street he was supposed to before making another quick, sharp right, seeing a yellow street sign that read "Dead End." At least they had gone the right way.

The dark-haired officer turned off the siren as he slowly drove down the continually darkening street, but he left the red and blue lights flashing as he pulled to a stop in the gravel driveway of the last house on the left. He double checked that he had his badge and the new gun that Darren had registered to him within easy reach, reaching across Matt in the passenger seat and pulling a small flashlight out of the glove compartment just in case he needed it.

"All right, have everything?" Cody asked as he glanced at the rookie. Matt checked for his gun and badge before he held up the warrant with a nod for emphasis. "Good, keep that close. Let's go."

Cody stepped out from behind the wheel of the squad car while Matt did the same, looking around and seeing that curious faces were peering out at them from behind the curtains of the lit living room windows of the houses around them. He then raised his blue-green eyes to the older house in front of them with the white paint and the maroon trim peeling in many places, noticing it appeared to be a two-story duplex.

"Matt, does the address say anything about which floor Brooks lives in?" he wondered, looking back at the other man.

"I'll check." The rookie opened the passenger door again, quickly looking over the instructions on how to get to the residence. "Uh... second story."

"Come on, then." Cody walked up the gravel driveway with Matt close behind and led the way up a bare, wooden staircase to the second floor, stopping in front of the door that read _2114-B_. Taped next to the numbers was a sheet of paper that Cody tore off to read better, seeing it was a hand-written eviction notice dated a couple of weeks before that warned the resident that they had a month to move out. Exchanging a glance with the other officer, the dark-haired man folded the paper and slipped it in his back pocket before he reached out and forcefully knocked on the door.

"Police, open up!" he said loudly, leaning close to the door so that whoever was inside would be able to hear him. He waited for a couple minutes, and when he got no response, he knocked again with just as much force. "Police!"

"Not home, maybe?" Matt suggested, looking through the dark window to try to see any sign of life inside.

"Or he just doesn't wanna answer," Cody countered, reaching forward to rattle the door handle.

However, what he didn't expect was for the door to be unlocked as it opened slightly. Cody glanced back at Matt as he pulled out his gun and made sure it was ready to fire. "All right, stay here," he muttered quietly to the rookie. "Have your weapon ready to use if necessary. Stay in the doorway and watch for any signs of movement that I may not see. Okay?"

"Uh... sure." Matt slowly pulled his gun off his belt and fumbled with it for a moment before he got it loaded. It was the first time he ever had to even consider using it since his training at the Academy. "Gotcha."

Cody nodded once, pulling the thin flashlight he had taken from the glove compartment out of his pocket and switched it on, keeping it above his gun as he held both out in front of him. He then slowly stepped into the dark house, the floorboards creaking beneath his feet as he went. "Police!" he shouted again to announce his presence, sweeping the flashlight beam around the living room, which only consisted of a dusty couch under the window, an old yellow armchair, and a full length mirror in the corner. "Clear."

Matt watched nervously as the other officer then started to make his way toward a narrow hallway that led further into the house, his gun held tightly in his hands. He really hoped that he wouldn't have to use it, even though he would if it meant they could catch one of the men who had nearly killed his mentor.

"Could you turn those damn lights off? Some of us have to get up early in the mornin'!"

Not expecting the sudden loud, cranky voice from below, Matt gasped loudly as he dropped his gun. He quickly looked down, seeing an older man who had a bald spot in the middle of his head and a beer belly was standing at the bottom of the stairs, squinting up at him with an irritated look on his face. Flustered, the rookie quickly bent down and picked up his weapon, keeping it along with the warrant in hand as he hurried back to the graveled driveway.

"Um... yeah, uh... sure." Matt opened the driver's side door and reached across the steering wheel, hitting a small switch. However, he was only greeted by a blast of heat in his face. "Oops, wrong button..." He quickly turned the heater off before reaching a little higher up, and he jumped slightly and bumped his head on the ceiling when the siren suddenly blared. He quickly turned it off again, noticing the old man was grumbling to himself as he hit the button that controlled the lights inside the car before finally finding the right one that turned off the red and blue ones on top. He straightened up as he shut the door again, finding the older man was looking at him with his arms crossed in frustration.

"Sorry about that, Sir," Matt continued politely as he held up the sheet of paper he had managed to hold onto, rubbing his sore head with his other hand. "But we're here with an arrest warrant, and, um..."

The older man sighed as he lowered his arms. "Oh. I thought someone finally sent ya to respond to the complaints I've been makin'. The cops 'round here don't do shit..."

Matt gave him a small smile, not exactly sure what to say in response. The man's eyes narrowed slightly as he looked over the rookie. "Who's the warrant for, anyway?" he wondered before nodding up to the second story that Cody was still searching. "You ain't gonna find no one up there. No one's lived there for the past couple weeks."

The Long Island native looked back at the man with confusion. "Well, the man we're looking for was listed under this address," he explained. "Do you know the name Michael Brooks?"

Surprisingly, the man laughed at the question. "Do I know Michael Brooks?" he repeated. "I sure as hell do, boy! That good-for-nothin' moved in upstairs about a year ago. Came in from Ohio, I believe. Or maybe it was Oregon... Ah, whatever. It was some 'O' state... But anyway. Said somethin' 'bout a bad break-up with a girl of his. I let him slide by rent-free the first couple months since he was a bit down on his luck and I'm a nice guy."

"Wait, so are you the landlord then?" Matt wondered.

The stout man rolled his eyes. "Yes, and I live on the bottom floor," he told him irritably. "But anyway, this Brooks kid. At first, he wasn't so bad. He was quiet and kept to himself mostly. We would often sit out on my porch and have a couple smokes and drinks together as we shared in our pathetic lives. 'Cause see, my wife divorced me a few years ago and took everythin', which is why I live in this run-down hellhole. It's cheap. But since I've retired, I've opened the top floor for rent. And since that Brooks kid is gone, I'll have to put out a for-sale sign out or somethin', or else _I'll_ be shit outta' luck...

"But anyway, that's beside the point. Sometimes, Brooks and I would go out to a bar in the downtown area. Just for somethin' different, y'know? One time when we went there, he made himself a lady friend. Real pretty girl who worked at one of the bars we went to. She would sometimes come out here to visit. I dunno if they were an item or whatever, but at least he had some company besides me.

"He paid the rent fine for a few months after that, but then he started to get later and later on the payment, or he didn't have all of it. For a little bit, I let this slide, but soon I had to start crackin' down. It's my ass on the line too if I can't pay everythin'! A couple months after that, he wasn't payin' at all, and I finally stuck an eviction notice on his door a couple weeks ago, giving him a warnin' to either pay up or move out by the end of the month. He ignored it for a couple days before I got the court to send him one to let him know I meant business. That night, he packed everythin' up and just left. That lady friend of his helped him, as well as this man who I've seen come 'round here a couple times. Haven't seen him since. Dunno where he is now. Probably with one of them."

"Did you get a good look at either of these two people?" Matt questioned.

The balding man shrugged. "Boy, I can't see for shit," he replied. "I have glasses, yes, but one of the frames always comes loose and they're not as strong as I need 'em. I couldn't see faces if I tried. Could barely make out yours."

Matt sighed as he glanced up at the second story. Not only was Michael gone, but the only witness to his leaving couldn't help them with identifying their now two people of interest.

"But, while you're here, you can look into those complaints I made."

"Uh, well, that's not really what I'm here for..." Matt began, but his sentence trailed off when the older man wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"Nonsense. You're the first cop to come out this way," he continued. "See, I've been hearin' creakin' from the top floor the past couple of nights. No one lives up there, and it's been keepin' me up at night. I'd go up there myself, but I'd throw my back out."

"Um, okay." Matt tried to give him another smile. "Another officer is up there now trying to investigate, so–!"

"Hey, Cardona!"

Startled by the sudden familiar voice, the rookie looked up to see Cody was standing at the top of the wooden stairs, an amused smile on his face as he looked down at him and the portly man. "What?" he called up.

"Well, the house was clear of Michael Brooks," Cody told him, the smile lingering as he put his gun back on his belt and turned off the small flashlight. "He hasn't been there for at least a couple weeks, I'd guess. But I did find _him_." He turned back to the door and waited for a moment before a second man with a long graying beard stepped out next to him, wearing a tattered coat and fingerless gloves.

"We're gonna bring him downtown with us," Cody continued as they both walked down to the gravel driveway. "See if we can find someplace for him to go with a hot meal."

Matt nodded as he turned back to the landlord. "Well, I think that might be the answer to your disturbance," he said. "I would just keep that door locked, Sir."

The larger man watched in disbelief as the two officers then walked back to their squad car, making sure the homeless man was settled in the backseat before climbing in the front. Cody started the car, seeing the landlord continued to watch them as he backed out of the driveway and took off down the street the way they had come.

"So, that guy was telling me that Brooks moved in there about a year ago," Matt explained as Cody came to a stop at a stop sign. "He was kicked out because he wasn't paying rent on a regular basis before he stopped entirely. He said a man and a woman helped him move, but he doesn't know who they are or what they really look like. So, that's no help."

"No, not at all," Cody agreed quietly, almost thoughtfully. "Though it wouldn't surprise me if this other guy was the one who was also involved in the attack on Phil if Michael really took part in it."

Matt met his gaze. "Think it could be Bennett?" he wondered.

Cody didn't answer for a long moment. "It's possible," he finally muttered. "But I don't know if he was involved in the attack. Both Bennett and this landlord guy have talked about this 'other man.' At most, Bennett may know some of Michael's known associates or possibly even where he's staying now. After all, he did buy that car from him."

"True." Matt sighed as he passed a hand over his face. "So, we find Bennett?"

The dark-haired man nodded. "We find Bennett," he agreed. "Hopefully, he'll be able to give us some answers on Michael. We need to track him down as soon as possible."

* * *

Jason Reso passed a weary hand over his face as he walked past a couple nurses making their way down the hallway in the opposite direction, holding his clipboard tightly under one arm. Even though he was technically on his break, there was one more stop he wanted to make before he let himself relax. The medic turned the corner and waved to his intern, Kaitlyn, who was pushing an elderly man down the hallway in his wheelchair before he came to a stop in front of a door, wanting to check on Phil before Darren returned to the hospital. From the careful monitoring they had done over the past couple of days, the officer's vitals were remaining steady, but he still wanted to keep a close eye on him regardless. He was fully aware of the dangers that could present themselves if a critically injured patient wasn't watched carefully.

But when he looked through the small window into the room, Jay was startled to see that someone was already inside standing beside the bed, and he definitely wasn't the Chief of Police. He quickly opened the door and stepped inside, holding his clipboard tightly. "Excuse me, but what are you doing here?" he asked.

The black-haired man stopped leaning closer to the bed as he quickly turned to look over his shoulder, his hazel eyes wide as he quickly stuffed something into the pocket of his dark hooded sweatshirt. "Oh, I'm sorry," he answered quietly with a slight smile as he straightened up and fully turned to face the medic. "You see, he's family, and when I heard about what happened..."

Jay's eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at the man closely. Lynne had given him a list of all of Phil's immediate family members when she had arrived at the hospital after her son had been admitted, and there hadn't been a man counted among them. "Due to his condition, you need to have permission to enter this room," he told him strictly. "And I have only granted it to a couple of people. You cannot be in here."

A moment passed before the man nodded. "Right, I understand," he muttered. "Sorry about the confusion."

The medic took a step further into the room as the other man slowly walked away from the bed, watching as he neared the door before he moved to check on Phil. The officer still seemed to be resting peacefully as the quiet _beeps _from the heart monitor remained steady.

But then, Phil's hazel eyes fluttered open, and he slowly started to look around him with confusion. Jay smiled as he looked down at his patient, setting a light hand on his arm.

"How are you doing?" the Canadian native asked quietly. "Did you sleep well?"

Phil raised his gaze to the medic, smiling slightly in return when he recognized Jay's familiar, friendly face since it was one he saw often. "Okay," he answered, his voice still slightly thick with sleep. "Yeah, for the most part..." His sentence trailed off, however, when his eyes landed on the dark-haired man who still stood in the doorway.

Jay's eyes narrowed when he saw an almost distressed look cross the officer's face as his eyes widened slightly, and he quickly glanced over his shoulder at the other man as well before turning back to Phil. "What's wrong?" he wondered with concern.

However, Phil didn't answer as he continued to stare at the other man, an anxious look in his eyes. Jay sighed as he straightened up to face him.

"If you would please leave now," the medic said firmly. "Otherwise, I'll have to call for security."

The dark-haired man tore his gaze away from Phil before looking at the blond-haired man, seeming to reach for whatever he had put in his sweatshirt pocket before he stopped and nodded once as he left the room and disappeared down the hallway.

Jay immediately turned back to the officer, noticing that his body seemed to relax as soon as the other man was gone. The slight fear was gone from his eyes, and he seemed to be completely at ease. "Did you recognize that man, Phil?" he pressed gently.

Phil turned back to the medic, a look of confusion passing over his face. "No," he told him quietly. "At least, I don't think so... Was I supposed to?"

"I'm not sure who that was myself," Jay replied with a slight shrug. "So I'm afraid I can't be of much help."

"That's okay," Phil muttered, his eyes drawn to the television that was still broadcasting the evening baseball game. "I just... I don't know. I just felt uncomfortable with him here..."

Jay's gaze saddened for a minute, but he made a mental note to tell Darren about the strange man who had entered the room seemingly without anyone knowing as well as the officer's reaction to him. "Well, he won't be back in here," he assured him with a small smile. "But for now, I just want to check on a couple things. Okay?"

Phil attempted to return the smile as he nodded in response before he turned back to the television screen. Jay took the stethoscope from around his neck and leaned forward a little as he placed the cold end on the other man's chest, focusing as he tried to find his heartbeat. Even though the monitor he was hooked up to already told him that it was remaining steady, he was relieved the sound seemed to be a little stronger than it had been the previous day. It was a good thing that the officer was in fit physical condition since it would only aid in his recovery.

"All right, Phil, I'm gonna need you to sit up a little," Jay muttered. He then reached out and lightly took hold of his arms, slowly and carefully helping him to sit up away from the propped mattress behind him. He noticed the slight wince that crossed Phil's face at the motion, knowing his ribs were still a bit tender, but he didn't complain.

"And take a deep breath," the medic continued, placing the stethoscope on his back. He listened carefully to the expansion of Phil's lungs when he did as he was told, nodding slightly to himself when he didn't hear anything unusual. With the officer's ribs being cracked the way they were when he had been brought to the hospital, he had initially been concerned that the injury could interfere with his breathing. But fortunately for the other man, that didn't appear to be the case.

Jay smiled as he then helped Phil to lean back against the mattress again. "So far so good," he told him, carefully lifting his left arm to check on his broken fingers. With the small casts in place to help keep the bones as aligned as they could be, they also appeared to be healing nicely. He then moved on to his right knee, which was the injury he had been least concerned about when the officer had been brought in, seeing the bruising was only continuing to lighten.

"This is looking good," the medic muttered, checking the stitches Phil had gotten after the surgery to remove the bullet from his right side. "No sign of infection. Does it hurt at all?"

Phil slowly looked away from the screen after the pitcher got the second out in the bottom half of the inning, meeting the blond-haired man's gaze. "No," he said. "It itches a little, though."

Jay smiled in return. "That's good. That means it's healing," he replied. "Just try not to scratch at it, okay?" When Phil simply nodded before looking back at the screen as cheers broke through the speakers when the final out of the inning was made, the medic then checked the other man's left side where the couple cracked ribs were. The area didn't look nearly as bruised as it had been, and though they were still healing, that was another positive sign.

"How about your ribs?" Jay wondered, gesturing to the same area on himself when Phil looked back at him since the television was now showing commercials. "Do they hurt?"

"A little bit," Phil admitted with a slight shrug. "More uncomfortable than anything."

Jay nodded in understanding. "Yeah, it'll be that way for a while, I'm afraid," he told him. "At least they weren't broken. It would take longer to heal." Then, he smiled slightly. "I just wanna check one more thing before we move on to your blood pressure."

"Okay." Phil watched as the medic pulled a small flashlight out of the pocket of his white coat, trying not to close his eyes when Jay carefully held his eyelids up before shining a bright beam of light into them.

"Your eyes are looking better today, Phil," Jay stated with a smile. "Your pupils aren't so dilated. I'm relieved that the head trauma you sustained wasn't as severe as I initially thought. Hopefully, this concussion won't linger too long."

Phil attempted a small smile. "That's... good?" he guessed.

Jay chuckled quietly as he walked around to the other side of the bed to prepare to take the officer's blood pressure. Though he couldn't get into specifics with the other man, he was definitely relieved to see that the swelling of his brain was continuing to go down and that there hadn't been any complications. "Yes, Phil, that's a good thing," he confirmed. "It means you're on the way to recovery." The medic watched the other man for a moment as he carefully shifted position on the bed, being careful of his left side.

"So, I know you're getting restless just lying around all day," Jay continued, watching as Phil's attention was once more drawn to the television when the game returned. "If all goes well and if Darren will let you, maybe we can see how you do walking around the room a little bit tomorrow."

Phil's hazel eyes brightened up considerably as he turned to look up at the medic. "Really?" he asked.

Jay laughed a little. "Really," he answered. "You're recovering well right now, Phil, but I don't want there to be any setbacks. So, we'll try walking around the room a little only if you feel up to it tomorrow and _only_ if you promise to at least sit down at the first sign of _any_ fatigue."

"I promise," Phil said immediately, a hint of a smile appearing on his face.

Jay couldn't help but smile slightly himself when he saw the look the other man gave him. It was the first true one he had seen that closely resembled his friend's typical smile since he had woken up. "All right. I'm holding you to that," he muttered. "Now, let me have your arm."

* * *

Darren sighed to himself as he walked away from the dark parking lot toward the brightly lit hospital, sliding his cell phone back into the pocket of his black dress pants. To say he was frustrated after reading the text that Cody had sent him about not locating Michael Brooks would be an understatement. Even if the man wasn't involved in the assault on Phil, he still wanted him behind bars for Cody's kidnapping. And after staying with Phil in the hospital as he struggled just to remember his own name, he had hoped that the older Brooks would at least be able to provide some answers about who had done this to him.

The Chief hardly noticed as a dark-haired man walked past him in the opposite direction, both hands stuffed into the pocket of his black sweatshirt. But as he drew nearer to the automatic doors, Darren suddenly stopped, knowing where he had seen that man's face before. He quickly turned around, seeing that he was still making his way toward the parking lot, and took a few steps after him.

"Michael Brooks?" he called.

The dark-haired man's step faltered a little, and he walked a little further before finally coming to a stop. He slowly turned to look over his shoulder at the Englishman, his hazel eyes slightly fearful.

Darren slowly took a couple steps closer, and now that he was getting a closer look at the younger man's face, he had no doubt in his mind that this was indeed the one they were looking for. "Michael, my name is Darren Matthews," he said calmly, keeping one hand in plain view while he reached for his badge that he carried with him in his pocket. "I'm the Chief of Police, and–!"

Suddenly, Michael took off running as fast as he could toward the parking lot.

"Oh, bloody hell..." Darren took a deep breath as he started after the fleeing man at a much slower pace. In his older years, running was no longer an easy feat for him since his knees would often give him trouble, an unfortunate aftereffect of his many years as an officer both in England and in the States. That was one of the perks of being the Chief, he knew– he now had all of his younger officers to do the running for him. But he knew that he couldn't let Michael get away now, not if he did know something about the attack on Phil, especially since he was making himself look guiltier by attempting to run.

Fortunately for him, the older Brooks took the corner a little too fast, and he stumbled a bit as he bumped into a bench that served as a bus stop at the edge of the sidewalk. However, his little trip allowed Darren to catch up since Michael was hobbling a little on one bad leg, and he reached out and grabbed his arm.

But the other man wasn't done fighting yet. Michael reached into the pocket of his sweatshirt before swinging whatever he had grabbed at the Chief. Darren, realizing it was a pocketknife when he saw the glint of the blade in the light of the overhead streetlamp, quickly moved his head back to avoid being hit before he grabbed the younger man's wrist when he swung it at him a second time, causing him to drop the weapon. The Englishman kicked the pocketknife away before forcing Michael's arms to his side and kneeing him forcefully in the stomach. He kneed him one more time, causing him to double over before he pushed him down to the hard sidewalk, pulling his arms behind him and crouching beside the struggling man before digging his knee into his back to keep him down.

"Why do you guys always have to run?" Darren asked sarcastically, trying to catch his breath.

"Chief Matthews?"

Darren glanced over his shoulder, seeing that one of the young members of the hospital's security staff was standing near the bench behind him as he watched the scene with wide eyes. "Is... is everything okay, Sir?" he continued nervously.

Another moment passed as the Chief took a couple more deep breaths before he nodded. "Fine," he told him. He paused for a moment before looking back at the light-haired man. "Wha' is your name, lad?"

"Ambrose, Sir," the security guard muttered. "Dean Ambrose."

Darren smiled slightly, recognizing him from when he had been in the Academy before he had been transferred to the hospital security staff. "Well, I'll have to borrow your handcuffs, Ambrose. I promise I'll give them back when I return to the hospital." He glared darkly down at Michael, who was still trying to escape from the Englishman's hold. "I'm bringing this one downtown with me."

**Author's Note**: Well, I do try to keep up with current WWE television, even though this is an AU story, so expect more people to show up! But anyway, thanks to Darren, someone's in custody! But we're far from reaching all the answers. Any clues spotted? Feel free to leave them in your response! Thanks for reading! Your reviews are much appreciated. Thank you!


	24. Chapter 24

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing associated with the WWE. Just any OCs! The game of Life and "Poke'mon" don't belong to me either!

**Summary**: AU. "Never take anything for granted. For everything can be taken away in a heartbeat." When a brutal attack causes Phil Brooks to lose his memory, he struggles to not only piece his life back together and regain what was lost, but also to discover who still wants him dead.

**Author's Note**: Hey, guys! I hope you had a happy Easter, if you celebrate! Now it's time to gear up for Wrestlemania week! Always an exciting time. But anyway, thank you for the reviews! I'm glad to see that you guys have some theories forming. We'll have to see as we continue along ;) As for this chapter, enjoy and happy hunting! :)

_Chapter 24_

Cody and Matt hurried through the automatic doors of the brightly lit police station, the former pulling out his small pocket notebook. "Stay here," he said to the rookie. "I'm gonna go look up Bennett's address, and then we'll go."

"Okay." Matt sighed as he came to a stop near the front desk, watching as the other officer quickly pushed through the door that would bring him to the back offices before glancing at where Barbara was sitting behind the computer. His eyes narrowed slightly when he saw hers were half-closed as she stared blankly at the monitor and that she was slouched in her chair. "Hey, you okay, Barbie?"

Startled by the sudden question, Barbara opened her eyes and looked up at him before she straightened up slightly and gave him a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine," she muttered, taking a quick sip from her water bottle. "Just a little tired."

Matt slowly turned to face her completely, noticing the cheerful look didn't quite reach her eyes. He also thought that her face was a couple shades paler than it had been just a couple days ago. "Are you sure?" he pressed. "I mean..."

A moment passed before the night dispatcher nodded, reaching out and setting her hand on the rookie's arm. "I'll be fine, Matt," she assured him. "Thanks."

"Sure." Matt, however, wasn't sure he believed the modeling student since she couldn't quite meet his eyes. But before he could say anything more, the doors of the station slid open again, and his eyes widened at who he saw.

"Chief, I didn't expect to see you back here so soon..." he began, but his sentence trailed off when his gaze landed on the dark-haired man who was being dragged along with the Englishman, his hands cuffed behind his back. "Is... is that..."

Darren sighed as he slowed to a stop, arching an eyebrow as he looked at the man he tightly held. "Yes, Matthew," he muttered as he turned back to the rookie. "This is Michael Brooks."

The Long Island native's light eyes went wide when they landed on Michael, whose hazel gaze seemed to be burning a hole through him. He shook his head slightly, taking a small step back. "Phil... He's your brother," he whispered. "How could you do something like that?"

To his surprise, the older Brooks' gaze faltered slightly as he looked away. Before Michael or Matt could say anything more, however, Darren tightened his hold on the former's arms. "Let's go," the Chief said quietly. "We'll find someone you can have a nice cha' with."

"I'm not saying anything until I have a lawyer," Michael said defiantly, glaring back at the Englishman.

Darren only smirked. "And one will be appointed for you, never fear," he replied, starting to lead him toward the door that led to the holding area.

Barbara watched as the Englishman pulled Michael past her with unease, tensing slightly when his hazel eyes landed on her for a moment. She had only visited Phil in the hospital once before he had regained consciousness, and she couldn't think of what possibly could have caused the older Brooks to carry out the brutal act against his own brother if he truly was responsible.

Sighing, Darren shifted both of Michael's arms to one hand as he reached out to open the door that would bring them to the back offices, but it was pulled open before he could reach it. The Chief paused, but then a wry smile appeared at the corner of his lips when he saw who stepped into the lobby. "Hello, Cody."

"Chief." Cody nodded in greeting, but then a slight smirk appeared on his face when he saw the man in custody. "And hello to you too, Michael."

The older Brooks' hazel eyes narrowed angrily as he turned to the dark-haired officer, his gaze passing over the bruise near his right eye. "Too bad you escaped," he muttered.

Cody's smirk just broadened. "Yeah, too bad for you," he replied. "Because now you'll be doing time for kidnapping an officer."

"And attempted assault on an officer," Darren added quietly with a disapproving look at the man. "And tha' doesn' quite cover all the charges you'll be facing."

Michael quickly looked back at him. "I didn't touch you!" he protested. "_You _attacked _me_!"

Darren only rolled his eyes. "You ran, and the inten' was there," he countered. "Remember this?" He pulled the pocketknife he had gotten away from the older Brooks and held it up for emphasis. "You swung this a' me, and there is a witness a' the hospital to support i'. It's called self defense, lad. I suggest you learn abou' i'."

Cody chuckled quietly as Michael muttered under his breath in frustration. "So, that's two counts against ya so far, Brooks," he said. "And we're not even to the questioning part yet."

Michael glared at him. "As I told your Chief, I'm not saying a word until I get a lawyer."

"That's fine." Cody shrugged casually. "But he or she won't be here until the morning. So either way, you have a long night in holding to look forward to."

"Would you like to do the honors, Cody?" Darren asked, a slight smirk appearing on his own face.

Cody smiled in return. "I would love to, Chief," he answered. "Thank you."

"By all means." Darren let go of Michael's arms only when the younger officer had a firm hold on them, and he shook his head slightly as his smirk broadened when Cody dragged the man in custody through the doors that led to the holding area with a bit more force than necessary. He then turned his attention to Matt, who was standing behind him looking troubled. "Wha' is bothering you, lad?"

The rookie quickly looked up at the Englishman. "Where did you find him, Chief?" he wondered. "Cody and I went to his residence, and the landlord said he'd been gone for some time."

Darren sighed. "He was leaving the hospital," he explained. "Wha' he was doing there, I'm no' sure. Bu' I called Jay just to make sure everything was okay, and he told me tha' there was a man he didn' know in Phil's room. He seemed to be very uncomfortable around him before Jay forced him to leave. I' wouldn' surprise me if i' was Michael."

"But why would he be there?" Matt pressed. "Unless... do you think he really did have a part in Phil's assault?"

The Chief felt the slight weight of the pocketknife against his leg from where he had slid it back into his pocket, and he sighed quietly. What the older Brooks was doing with the weapon in the hospital, he couldn't say for sure other than there had been bad intentions behind his visit. "Your guess is as good as mine right now, lad," he muttered. But then, he forced a smile as he raised his gaze to the Long Island native. "You are free to go, Matthew. I'll probably see you sometime tomorrow."

Matt looked startled for a moment, but then he nodded slightly. "See you tomorrow, Chief," he agreed.

Darren watched as the young rookie slowly trudged through the automatic doors of the station, his attention then drawn to the night dispatcher when she yawned before she rose to her feet to throw her empty water bottle into the recycling bin. But as soon as Barbara straightened up, she immediately set her hand on the desk to keep her balance when she wavered slightly.

"Are you all right, sunshine?" Darren asked, arching an eyebrow with concern.

A moment passed before Barbara looked back at her boss with a slight smile on her face. "Fine," she answered. "Just a little tired."

"All right." Darren sighed, rubbing his tired eyes. "So, I'm going to make sure tha' Cody got Brooks down to holding all right. Then, I'm going to swing by the hospital and make sure everything's okay there before I go home. I'll stop by the station sometime tomorrow to check on everything here."

Barbara nodded. "All right, Chief. Have a good night," she said.

"You too, Barbara." Darren turned and began to make his way to the door that would take him to the holding area. But then, he stopped and turned around when he heard a loud _thud _from behind him, and his eyes widened with worry when he saw the night dispatcher had collapsed to the floor, her eyes closed and her face pale.

* * *

_"This is Cody. I'm unable to..."_

Scott sighed heavily when he once again only got Cody's voicemail, passing a hand over his face as the news footage of Nick tackling Darren in front of the hospital as a gunshot rang out replayed once more on the evening news. His stomach was tight with worry, for there was no information on what had happened to the two officers after the camera had stopped rolling, and he couldn't reach either the Chief or the other man.

Finally, he heard the quiet beep on the other end that signaled to leave a message, and he took a deep breath. "Uh, hey, Cody. It's Scott," he said, starting to pace in front of the television. "I'm just watching the news, and I saw what happened at the hospital. Dude, are Nick and Darren okay?! I can't get a hold of them. Call me back, man." The officer then ended the call, and he lowered his gaze as he slipped his cell phone in his pocket. Not only was his best friend still in the hospital, but now he had no way of knowing if two more people he cared about were safe.

Then, Scott glanced up when he heard light footsteps coming down the stairs, and he quickly grabbed the remote from the couch and changed the local news station to Cartoon Network just as Briar entered the living room. A smile appeared on her face when she saw the new episode of "Poke'mon" on the screen, but then she held up the long box that was in her hands toward her brother.

"You wanna play Life tonight, Scott?" she asked cheerfully.

"Um, yeah, sure..." Scott answered quietly, finally turning away from the television.

Briar frowned slightly as she looked at him curiously. "What's wrong?" she wondered. "We always play a game." She may not have understood why her brother had been home so much for the past couple of days, but she enjoyed the time she got to spend with him regardless. Playing a game with him before she went to bed at night had become one of her favorite activities.

However, Scott just sighed quietly as he forced a smile. "Are you going to go to college?" he wondered.

Briar's face brightened up at the sound of one of the game's most important questions as she knelt on the floor and set the box in front of her, quickly pulling off the lid. "Of course I am," she told him matter-of-factly. "I want to get a good job like you did."

"Well, I went to something _like _college," Scott muttered as he sat across from her when she began to take out the different kinds of career cards. "It wasn't exactly the same."

"You went to a different school to be a policeman?" When the officer nodded in confirmation, Briar looked at him curiously. "Was it hard?"

Scott chuckled quietly. "Yeah, it could get pretty hard, girl," he said. "But that's because Darren only wanted the best people to be a part of his team." At the mention of his boss, Scott quickly pulled his phone out of his pocket, sighing quietly when he saw there was still no response from anyone on whether or not the Englishman and Nick were all right.

A broad grin appeared on the little girl's face. "Then you're one of the best!"

"Well..." Scott's smile faltered slightly, but he tried to hide it as he took the Life board out of the box. As he thought over the events of the past week, he couldn't help but feel that if his sister was right, there were some people who deserved that status more than he did. Cody had been injured while attempting to stop a jewelry store robbery and had the scar to prove it. Phil was continuously fighting to regain his life despite the uncertainty that still remained about his condition after the assault on him had cost him his memory. And now, from the bits he had seen on the news, Nick had risked his own life to save Darren's, and he had no idea if either one of them had been injured or worse. Even Matt, still a rookie on the force, had been relentlessly searching for the men who had nearly killed his mentor.

And all he had done was let his emotions get the best of him and punched a possible person of interest in the face, causing his suspension. He had let things get too personal, and that was one of the furthest things from being one of Chicago's finest that he could think of.

"There are some who are better than I am," Scott finished quietly, giving Briar a small smile before he pulled the colored cars out of the box. "All right, sis. Which one do you want?"

Briar looked at him with some confusion before she looked down at the different choices she had, but before she could pick one, they both glanced up when the doorbell rang. "I'll get it!" she exclaimed, pushing herself to her feet and running across the living room toward the front door.

Scott chuckled as he slowly got to his feet and followed after her to the entrance hall, watching as the girl stood on her toes to unlock the door before she pulled it open. But then, his smile vanished when he saw who was standing on the other side. "Matt?"

Matt Cardona nodded once at the other officer before he looked down at the seven-year-old still standing in front of him with a smile. "Hey, sweetie, could I come in for a minute?" he wondered cheerfully.

Briar gave him a small, shy smile in return as she backed away from the doorway, allowing the rookie room to enter the house. Scott stepped forward and set his hand on the little girl's back. "Hey, I need to have a word with Matt. Think you could go set up the game for us?"

"Sure, Scott!" Briar then glanced up at Matt with excitement. "Do you want to play Life with us?"

"Well, I..." But then, the rookie sighed when he saw the expectant smile on her face. "Sure, one game."

Briar made an excited sound before she hurried back into the living room. Scott watched her leave before looking back at him. "You're not on duty, right?" he asked, though he noticed that the Long Island native was wearing a casual t-shirt along with the dark pants of his uniform.

"No, not right now, man," Matt confirmed. "I just got off, actually. But dude, things are hectic at the station. I would have called, but since I'm not working, I thought I would just stop by."

Scott's eyes went wide. "Hectic?" he repeated nervously. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure Briar was still in the other room before he turned back to the rookie. "Are Darren and Nick–!"

"Oh, you're talking about what happened at the hospital? Yeah, dude, Darren and Nick are fine. Chief wasn't hurt, and Nick got out of surgery a while ago. He's expected to make a quick and full recovery since he wasn't hit in a critical area."

"Thank God." Scott breathed a heavy sigh of relief. "I mean, I saw it on the news, but they haven't revealed anything about their condition. I'm just glad they're okay." But then, he looked at the rookie thoughtfully. "So, what's going on then? I mean, it doesn't really concern me since I'm suspended, but..."

Matt sighed as he crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall behind him. "True, but you're close to Phil," he muttered.

Scott's eyes narrowed slightly with worry. "What... what's wrong with Phil?" he wondered hesitantly. With the officer still in the hospital, he knew the answer could be anything.

"Nothing other than what we already know," Matt assured him quickly. "But um, some guy took Cody earlier, and it's possible that he was also responsible for the assault on Phil. He was driving that car we've been searching for, so we think he's the Michael B. who sold it to Bennett."

"Did you get him?" Scott pressed anxiously. "Who is it?" The closer they could get to catching whoever had nearly killed his best friend, the better.

Matt hesitated for a moment before he nodded once. "Yeah, we got him," he said, not quite able to meet the other man's gaze. "Um, it's–!"

Before he could finish, both he and Scott looked up in time to see Briar hurry into the entrance hall. "Game's ready!" she announced cheerfully.

The rookie chuckled quietly as Scott sighed and turned to face his adopted sister. "Give us a couple more minutes, okay, girl?"

"Okay!" Briar's smile widened when she glanced at Matt before hurrying back into the living room.

"I think she may have a bit of a crush on you, man," Scott muttered jokingly as he turned back to the rookie.

Matt chuckled as a hint of a smirk appeared at the corner of his lips. "Ah, that's okay," he replied. "Not my fault I'm irresistible."

Scott rolled his eyes, but then his gaze faltered. "So, you were saying you got the guy?" he prompted.

The rookie nodded once with a sigh. "Dude, I don't know how I can put this..." He paused for a moment, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. "But Chief just arrested Michael Brooks."

Matt had anticipated that the news would be shocking to the other officer, and he wasn't too surprised to see the color drain from Scott's face as his eyes widened. "Mic... Michael Brooks?" he repeated in nearly a whisper.

"Yeah," Matt confirmed quietly. "He's definitely going to face charges for kidnapping Cody, but we'll see what else we can get him for after his lawyer gets to the station tomorrow morning. It's possible he also may have been the one who nearly shot Chief at the hospital, as well as being involved in the attack on Phil and the disturbances involving their mother since his car was spotted at all of these incidents."

Scott lowered his gaze before he slowly sank down onto the bottom step of the staircase leading up to the second floor. He put his face into his hands as he let out a long, shaky breath, waiting for a moment before he slowly looked up at the younger man. "I've known Michael for... for years," he muttered in disbelief. "He was an asshole, yeah. But never did I think he would..." His sentence trailed off as he sighed again, passing a hand over his face as he met the rookie's gaze. "Matt... When I found Phil that night, I thought he was... he was dead... He was so pale, and there was a lot of blood... He started to slip into shock, and... and I couldn't help him..."

Matt's gaze saddened as he watched the dark-haired man give his account on how he had discovered Phil after the assault, not saying a word as he tried to regain his composure. After a few minutes passed, Scott slowly looked back up at the rookie. "How?" he wondered. "How could someone do that to their own brother?"

"I don't know," Matt replied honestly. "I wish I did, but I don't. But don't worry. We'll hopefully find out more in the morning when we're able to question him."

Scott nodded, but he still wasn't fully appeased by the response. "Call me as soon as you find out anything, okay?"

Matt smiled slightly. "I will, man," he assured him.

The other officer took a deep breath, and both he and Matt looked up when Briar once more came out of the living room. "Ready?" she asked.

Scott chuckled as he pushed himself to his feet, forcing a smile at his adopted sister. "You got it, kiddo," he answered.

Briar grinned broadly as she hurried back into the other room. "I call the red car!"

Matt looked after her in mock horror. "Hey, red's mine, girl!" he said, quickly following after her.

Scott shook his head slightly as he slowly walked into the living room, watching as Briar and the rookie playfully fought over who would be the proud owner of the red game piece. But then, his smile vanished as he thought about the information Matt had just given him, not understanding how someone could harm their own sibling. He could never imagine himself even thinking of laying a hand on Briar in that way, or even his brother Greg. It just didn't seem possible.

His gaze darkened. If Michael Brooks really was involved in the assault on Phil, he would personally see that he would live to regret it.

* * *

_The house was dark when he stepped inside, his badge held tightly in his hand. His gaze passed over the floral print couch, the tall bookshelf against the wall, the small television in the corner, and a wall of photos displaying different family members adjacent to the door, his senses on high alert as he searched for any sign of the men who had reportedly broken in. The words of warning from a man who had been with him before he had hurried inside echoed in his mind, but for some reason, he couldn't focus on them._

_His attention was then drawn to a round mirror that was hanging on the wall next to him near a photograph of the middle-aged woman who owned the house and her daughter, catching a glimpse of his reflection. He took a couple slow steps closer when he didn't recognize the face looking back at him. His hazel eyes were slightly narrowed in confusion, his black hair that fell to his chin pulled back behind his head. There were only slight traces of scruff lining his face, and though he still had his lip ring, there were also piercings in both of his ears._

_But then, he caught movement in the mirror behind him, and he quickly turned around to see two men wearing black hooded sweatshirts entering the living room from the kitchen. They were each carrying a bag filled with items of value from the house, but they stopped when their gazes landed on him._

_"Police!" he shouted, holding up his badge in plain view for them to see._

_However, the two men simply glanced at each other, and the shorter nodded before the second man pulled out a gun and aimed it directly at him._

_His eyes widening in horror, the dark-haired officer began to reach for his own gun that he kept on his belt, but his grasping fingers only met air. He looked down, dread flooding through him when he saw his weapon wasn't where it was supposed to be. He quickly looked up at the two armed men, eyeing the firearm pointed at him nervously._

_Nearing footsteps then reached his ears, and he looked away from the gun in time to see an officer with semi-spiked light blond hair run into the living room with a weapon of his own drawn before he stopped next to him. He looked familiar, but he couldn't place from where. He reached a hand out toward the new arrival to warn him about the gun he hadn't known the two men robbing the house had had, but he was too late._

_The sudden movement startled the robbers, and the taller of the two moved the weapon in the direction of the other officer and fired. The blond man's gun dropped from his hand as he fell to the floor. The two men who had fired fled._

_He was frozen. All he was able to do was stare down at the motionless blond-haired officer as crimson continued to stain his shirt near his left hip. All of the color had drained from the face of the man he thought he knew but could not give a name to, and the slight rise and fall of his chest was the only sign that he still clung to life. He quickly knelt down beside him at this realization, reaching out with a tattooed hand and shaking him to try to elicit some response out of him. But the man's light eyes remained closed, seemingly lifeless. Keeping a firm hand on the other man's shoulder, he closed his own eyes, hoping that help would arrive soon as the sound of sirens were heard faintly in the distance..._

_A doorbell rang._

_He quickly opened his eyes again, and he was surprised to see he was now standing on the dark porch of an unfamiliar house. Where had the other officer gone? Had someone gotten him help? In the faint light from the porch light above them, he saw who he recognized to be Darren standing next to him, his familiar features hesitant as he waited for whoever lived in the house to answer the door._

_A minute later, it opened to reveal a woman with shoulder-length platinum blonde hair, who appeared to be surprised by the visitors. She seemed familiar to him, like the other officer in the house had been, but once again, he couldn't remember where he had seen her before._

_"Darren," the woman muttered with a slight smile. "This is unexpected. I was just about to put the kids to bed. Here, why don't you guys come in?"_

_However, Darren sighed heavily. "I' would probably be better to talk ou' here," he replied quietly._

_The small smile slowly vanished from from the woman's face, and she quickly glanced into the house behind her before she crossed her arms and leaned against the doorway. The dark-haired man looked past her into the living room, seeing that three children with the same light hair as the woman were sitting on the floor. A boy who looked no older than six held a race car in his hand while two identical girls who looked as though they were at the age where they were only starting to walk around were holding soft dolls tightly in their small arms. Whatever they had been playing had instantly been forgotten about with the arrival of the two officers, and all three of them were watching them intently._

_"What's going on?" the woman asked nervously, her voice low._

_A moment passed before Darren lowered his eyes to something he was holding, and the dark-haired man followed his gaze to see a neatly folded uniform and a badge in his hands. All of the color drained from the woman's face when she saw them, and her hand flew to her mouth as she shook her head slightly._

_"I'm so sorry." Darren raised his sorrow-filled gaze to her. "We did wha' we could for him."_

_Tears quickly formed and fell from the blonde woman's eyes, and she leaned into Darren and sobbed when he pulled her securely into his arms. "It's all right," he murmured, trying to console her as he rubbed her back. "I promise. I' will be all right..."_

_The dark-haired man watched them with some confusion, not quite able to share in their sorrow since he wasn't quite sure why they were grieving. He remembered how the blond-haired officer had been shot in the house he had previously been in, and he wondered if it had something to do with that incident. But that had to mean that the man hadn't survived..._

_"Wh... what happened?" she finally asked when she got her tears a bit more under control, her voice hardly above a whisper. "I mean... we were going through the application you gave him for the assistant Chief of Police position last night, and now..."_

_Darren sighed, keeping a secure hold on the distraught woman. "A robbery wen' wrong tonight," he explained. "Our dispatcher said the caller hadn' mentioned anything abou' a weapon. Bu' they had one, and he..." He paused for a moment. "He stepped into the house after his rookie. He took the bulle'. We had him rushed to the hospital as soon as we go' there, but an infection settled in tha' the doctors hadn' been expecting. There was nothing they could do. I was there when he... when he died abou' a half hour ago."_

_For some reason, the dark-haired man felt guilty after hearing Darren's account of what must have happened to the blond-haired man after he had come into the house after him. What he didn't understand was why. He hadn't shot the other man. It hadn't been his fault..._

_He nervously chewed on his lip ring as he glanced into the living room again, and his eyes narrowed slightly when he saw the three children were looking at them with fear. Were they his children? Did they know that their father wouldn't be coming home?_

_The woman leaned against Darren again as a fresh wave of tears fell from her eyes. "At least... at least you were with him..." she whispered. Then, she took a deep breath as she turned to the dark-haired man, who hesitantly met her moist gaze. "Were you hurt, dear?"_

_"Um..." He was surprised by her apparent concern for him when she had just learned someone dear to her had died. That was the last thing he had expected. "No, I'm okay..." Simply saying those three words made his guilt return even though he didn't know why, and he lowered his gaze._

_A hint of a smile appeared on the woman's face, and she nodded to Darren, who released her, before she took a couple steps closer to the dark-haired man and lightly set her hand on his arm. He slowly looked back at her, startled when she wrapped her arms around him. "Well, that's something we can be grateful about," she muttered. "He cared about you, I know he did. He'd be relieved to know you're okay."_

_Not knowing what else to do, he returned the woman's embrace with a quiet sigh. They stayed close together for a moment, and he slowly closed his eyes when he heard her attempts to restrain her sobs..._

_The sound of muffled voices caused him to open his eyes again, and he saw that he was standing on a vast lawn filled with people wearing dark-colored dresses and tuxedos. Some were standing close together and talking in hushed tones while others were sitting in neatly arranged folding chairs set up behind him, quietly crying. He was concerned to see that the woman with shoulder-length platinum blonde hair he had seen before was sitting in the front row, her face expressionless, as she held both of the identical girls on her lap while the older boy was sitting in the chair beside her, clinging tightly to her arm. He looked around a little more, finding that he was standing close to the front of a line where people were stopping to see a long, ornate black box, the top half of its lid lifted to reveal what was inside._

_He then looked up when a man standing next to him set his hand lightly on his shoulder, once again recognizing the concerned face of Darren. "Are you all right, lad?" he asked quietly._

_"Um... yeah, I'm fine," the dark-haired officer answered with some confusion. "Where are–!"_

_But before he could finish his question, the couple in front of them walked away from what they were in line to see, the woman in tears as the man guided her along. Darren tightened his hold on his shoulder before they both stepped up, and the dark-haired man's eyes widened when he found himself looking at the body of the blond officer who had been shot in the house. His eyes were closed and his complexion ashen. He remembered how the woman sitting in the chair behind him with her children had sobbed when Darren had told her he had died, and he sighed heavily as he lowered his gaze._

_"I'm going to miss him," Darren muttered, his gaze filled with sorrow as he looked at the lifeless man lying in front of them. "He was a good officer. A good man."_

_The dark-haired officer briefly glanced up at Darren before looking back at the body for a long moment. Even with no hints of life, his features were familiar to him, but for the life of him, he could not remember why. With a heavy sigh, he closed his eyes as he turned from Darren and the deceased officer, slowly walking away without looking back..._

Phil gasped and tried to sit up as his eyes snapped open, a dull pain in his side causing him to stop as he instead wiped at the thin layer of sweat that had appeared on his face and looked at the darkness around him. In the light filtering in from the hallway on the other side of the door, he saw that he was still in the same plain white room that he had been in for some time when his eyes adjusted, and he sighed heavily as he carefully leaned back against the pillows, careful of his ribs as he moved to find a more comfortable position on the bed.

But no matter how hard he tried, the officer could neither forget nor figure out the nightmare he had abruptly woken from. The images had been so clear– the dark house, the visitation, the faces of the people he felt that he was supposed to know but couldn't remember. It was frustrating for him to try to grasp the significance of those faces but not being able to.

The sound of the gunshot echoing in the dark living room still rang in his ears, and Phil covered his face with a slightly shaking hand to try to block the image of the ashen-faced, light-haired man from his mind. But it still remained as tears burned in his eyes, and he was unable to stop a couple from trailing down his cheeks.

**Author's Note**: So, a different kind of ending there. But, it appears that things are starting to wrap up a little, at least in the assault case. But, as you can see, there's a bit more to figure out. Thanks for reading! Your reviews are much appreciated. Thank you!


	25. Chapter 25

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing associated with the WWE. Just any OCs!

**Summary**: AU. "Never take anything for granted. For everything can be taken away in a heartbeat." When a brutal attack causes Phil Brooks to lose his memory, he struggles to not only piece his life back together and regain what was lost, but also to discover who still wants him dead.

**Author's Note**: Hey, guys, I'm here with a bit of a quicker update! Thanks for the reviews of the last chapter! Well, this thing is almost done on my end! I have about a chapter or two to write, which leaves about five to seven more to update. So, we're getting down to the wire! If you have any theories, feel free to leave them in your reviews! We'll see a couple new characters included in here and possibly some clues, so always keep your eyes open! Enjoy and happy hunting! :)

_Chapter 25_

_Thx for the nice pic of ur sons, kiddo :) Congrats to both u and Charity! Sorry it took so long for me to reply. U know me and technology :) Doesn't help that i'm out hunting in the wilderness either! But nice job to both of u! Can't wait to see the little munchkins for myself. We'll catch up when i get back to the city._

Nick smiled broadly as he finished reading the text message he had received that morning from his former mentor, Michael Hickenbottom. He had been one of the first people he had texted a picture of Nicholas and Phillip to the first night they spent in the hospital, and that it had taken so long to get a response from the retired officer when he was on one of his hunting trips didn't surprise him. Technology wasn't necessarily Michael's strong point, but the little to no service in the woods made it difficult to reach him. He was just glad that the picture had gotten through to the older man for him to see, and he was greatly looking forward to showing off his kids to him when he got back to civilization.

Slipping his cell phone back in his pocket, Nick turned to the man who was now walking next to him. "Thanks for stopping by, man. I know you're gonna have a busy day ahead of you."

Cody chuckled quietly. "Man, if I could be in Darren's position and spend the whole day here with you guys, I'd be a happy guy," he muttered. "Not that I'm happy about the number of us in the hospital, but I'm kinda dreading the questioning I have to do in a few hours. Darren put me on it."

Nick nodded slightly as he and Cody slowly made their way down the nearly empty hallway of the hospital, squinting slightly in the bright early morning sunlight filtering in through the blinds. "I've done an interrogation before. It isn't too bad," he said. "But you're my partner. If I didn't have this injury or two little guys who constantly need my attention, I'd be there with you." He held up his right arm for emphasis, which was supported by a sling.

"I literally feel your pain," Cody replied, making the other officer laugh. "So, the surgery went well, I take it? And the wife and kids are okay?"

"Yep, all good," Nick confirmed with a smile. "No complications with the surgery. And Charity, Nicholas, and Phillip are doing well. We're all going home tonight."

Cody smiled. "I'm glad to hear it, man. That's where you guys need to be."

"Yeah, I can't wait. And fortunately, Jake was nice enough to construct a second crib for us since it'd be hard for me to do with my arm." But then, Nick's smile slowly faltered. "So... at least you caught one of the guys you think is responsible for the assault on Phil, right? No matter who it is..."

The dark-haired officer opened his mouth to reply, but someone else spoke up first. "You don' have to concern yourself with tha' a' the momen', lad. You have enough to worry abou'."

Both Cody and Nick turned to see that Darren was approaching them from the other end of the hall, a small smile on his face and a steaming styrofoam cup of tea in his hand. "Oh, I'm not really worried about it, Chief," the latter said, returning the look when the older man stopped beside them. "I just wanna know how the interrogation goes. I mean, Phil's a good friend of mine, so..."

Darren's gaze faltered slightly as he took a small sip of his tea. "I know, lad," he replied quietly. "Bu' since we have someone in custody, hopefully we will ge' some answers now."

Cody briefly glanced at his watch. "Speaking of that, I think I'm gonna head out, guys," he told them. "I have to stop by my phone company and get a replacement cell before the lawyer gets to the station, and you know how long that can take."

"Do you feel comfortable with all this, Cody?" Darren asked, turning his attention to the other man. "I know it's your first interrogation, bu' Adam will be with you to help."

A confident smile graced Cody's features. "I'll be fine, Chief," he answered. "The guy kidnapped me, after all, and I have your statement about his attempted assault. So, we'll get him for something at least. And if he did have a part in the attack on Phil, I'll find out about it, as well as who his accomplice is."

Darren chuckled as he patted Cody on the shoulder. "That's the spiri', lad. Call me when the interrogation is over."

"You've got it, Chief."

"Go get 'em!" Nick grinned when Cody rolled his light eyes in return, laughing a little as his partner then hurried down the hall. "He'll be fine."

Darren nodded slightly, a small smirk turning up the corner of his lips, before he turned back to Nick with a quiet sigh. "So, everything wen' all right with the surgery, then?" he wondered. "No complications?"

Nick's smile lingered as he rolled his right shoulder a bit for emphasis. "Nope, all good, Chief!" he assured him. "I'll have my arm back in no time."

"Tha' is good to hear." Darren sighed, taking another small sip of his tea. "I wanted to thank you, Nicholas."

"For what?" Nick looked at the Englishman with confusion. "I didn't do anything, Chief."

Darren chuckled. "Well, lad, wha' you did for me was no' expected of you," he muttered. "You did no' have to push me ou' of the way of tha' gunman. I'm just relieved tha' you were no' seriously injured in doing so."

Nick smiled. "Course I had to," he replied quietly. "You're my friend, Darren. You've done a lot for all of us while you've been Chief. Any one of us would have done it without a second thought. I'm just glad _you're _not hurt."

"Ah, you shouldn' worry abou' me so much," Darren said, his smile lingering. "I'm no' getting any younger, and I certainly don' have many years on the force left. Bu' _you_ have your family now and hopefully quite a few years of service ye'. I' has been a pleasure watching you grow as one of my officers once you graduated from the Academy. Honestly, I wasn' sure how well you would do when I first me' you when I spoke to your class tha' year, bu' you have proven me wrong ever since I gave you a chance and selected you as a rookie on my force. Bu' regardless, thank you for wha' you did, Nicholas. I greatly appreciate i'."

"Yeah, I was a pretty immature asshole, wasn't I? I barely scraped through your selection." Nick grinned broadly before the look waned slightly. "But anytime, Chief. And I mean that."

Darren chuckled quietly again, patting the younger man on his uninjured arm. "I know, lad," he told him. "Now, if you don' think your wife would mind, why don' you show me those sons of yours before I go check on Phil?"

* * *

Matt found a spot to park as close to the hospital as he could, quickly putting his car in park. He pulled off his seatbelt and stepped out, locking it up behind him before he started to jog toward the building. He had been on his way to the station when he had been alerted that Barbara had been brought to the hospital the night before, and he sighed quietly to himself. He knew something had been off about her, but he hadn't known to how much of an extent.

The rookie slowed to a stop when he saw the small flower garden that was near the front doors, and he quickly looked around to make sure no one was watching before he reached out and quickly picked a single pink flower. Smiling slightly, he hurried through the sliding doors and stepped into the lobby, making his way to the front desk. Matt caught slight movement out of the corner of his eye, turning in time to see the back of a blond man's head as he came through the doors that led to the patients' rooms, a slight limp to his step as he made his way out of the hospital. But then he smiled at the dark-haired receptionist sitting behind the desk when he approached.

"I'm here for Barbara Blank," he told her, quickly lowering the flower to his side when he noticed her gaze had traveled to what he was holding.

The receptionist smiled slightly as she checked her computer. "You must be another coworker," she said, her gaze traveling over his dark uniform.

Matt arched an eyebrow. "Another coworker?" he repeated.

"Yes, your Chief came in with her last night, and another young man just stopped by to see her," the woman explained, turning to the rookie with a small smile. "Room 24A."

"Um, thank you..." Matt briefly returned the smile before he turned and walked through the doors that would bring him to the hospital rooms, slightly confused by the receptionist's words. He didn't think that anyone else at the station would have had the time to stop by to see the night dispatcher before they started their shifts, knowing that he only had a little bit of leeway since Adam hadn't given him his assignment yet.

But he didn't have anymore time to think about these things when he reached the room he was supposed to go to, and he glanced inside to see that Barbara was sitting up on the bed, looking through a couple of magazines as the television played quietly in the background. She had an IV in the crook of her arm, but other than that, she appeared a little better than when he had left the station the night before. She had some more color in her cheeks at least.

Taking a deep breath, he reached out and knocked a couple times. He waited until Barbara looked up before he took a few steps into the room, a small smile on his face. "Hey, Barbie," he said.

"Hi, Matt," Barbara replied, setting the _Cosmo _magazine aside as she turned her full attention to the rookie. "I've gotta say I didn't expect to see you here."

Matt chuckled quietly as he slowly approached the bed. "Yeah, well, I just thought I'd stop by to see how you were feeling before I went in for work," he muttered. "You're looking a little better."

Barbara smiled slightly, though the look didn't quite reach her eyes. "Yeah, I'm feeling a little better," she agreed quietly. "They said I'd be able to go home this afternoon since they just wanted to keep me last night for observation. That is, if I sign a couple forms to set up appointments... with... a nutritionist here..."

The rookie looked at her curiously when her sentence slowly trailed off, seeing she had lowered her gaze from his. With a quiet sigh, he took a couple steps closer and sat on the bed next to her. "How long have you been training to be a model, Barbie?" he asked.

A moment passed before Barbara looked back at him, her eyes narrowed slightly. "Um, about six months," she answered. "Why?"

Instead of answering right away, Matt shook his head slightly, his thoughts seeming elsewhere. "I should have known..."

"Known what?" Barbara wondered curiously. She glanced down at the IV that was hooked up to her arm to give her nutrients, feeling slightly self-conscious.

Matt turned back to her. "I have a friend back in Long Island that I still keep in touch with," he explained. "She had trained to be a model for a couple years before she was finally accepted by a top fashion line. And she would do the same thing, Barbie."

Barbara looked at him for a long moment before her gaze saddened. "She would... keep track of calories and... things like that?"

"Yes," Matt confirmed with a nod. "Of course I was worried about her, but she claimed she was fine. She's been seeing a nutritionist for over a year now, and she's happy with her job and everything." He paused and met Barbara's gaze. "So I guess what I'm trying to say is if you, like, want or need to talk to anyone..."

"I'll keep that in mind," Barbara said, her slight smile lingering. "Thanks, Matt."

"No problem." Matt returned the look before he sighed and rose to his feet. "Well, I suppose I'd better get to the station. I just wanted to see how you were doing."

"Well, thanks for stopping by," Barbara replied. "Good luck at work today."

"Thanks." Matt started to make his way toward the door of the room, but then he stopped when he remembered what he had brought into the hospital with him. "Oh, wait! This is for you."

Barbara looked at him curiously, and her smile broadened slightly when the rookie hurried back to the bed and held out the pink flower to her. "Thanks so much," she told him, taking the small gift from him. "It's really pretty."

"No problem." Matt chuckled quietly as he then began to back up toward the door. "I'll see you around, Barbie?"

"Yeah, for sure. Thanks again." Barbara's smile lingered as Matt quickly left the room, and she sniffed the flower before setting it next to her on the bed and returning to the pages of her fashion magazine. The night dispatcher only got a little further before she looked up again, her gaze landing on the flower next to her as her smile once again broadened.

* * *

"All right, Phil. Slowly now."

Phil took a deep breath as he slowly sat up on the bed with Darren and Jay lingering near him, wincing slightly when he felt some pain in his ribs. Both the Chief and the medic reached out to him, but he held up his own hand to stop them. The pain wasn't nearly as severe as it had been for however long he had been in the all-white room, and he proceeded to slowly sit up completely away from the propped mattress.

Jay chuckled when he saw the officer's smile as he looked back up at them while Darren shook his head slightly, fighting to keep back a similar look. "All right, Phil, I need you to tell me how you're feeling," he said. "Though it's good to see that you're able to up on your own now. That's an improvement."

The officer looked up at the medic, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Um, I'm feeling okay," he muttered. "A little uncomfortable here, but that's really it." He gestured to his ribs that were still healing.

Darren exchanged a look with Jay before the latter smiled as he leaned forward slightly. "How about your head?" he asked, setting his hand on his own. "Are you feeling dizzy or experiencing any pain?" The swelling of Phil's brain had been steadily decreasing, the fracture in his skull healing. But if he was feeling any adverse effects, he wasn't sure about allowing him to get out of bed, no matter how determined he was to do so.

Phil appeared thoughtful for a moment before he shook his head. "No, I'm okay," he answered.

Jay smirked slightly. "You're not just telling me that, are you?" he wondered. He knew the other man well, and even though he was suffering from memory loss, he was seeing more and more subtle hints of the dark-haired, tattooed man that he had come to consider a friend every day.

The officer gave him a small smile in return. "No, I'm not," he told him.

Darren sighed, leaning forward a little himself. "All right, Phil," he said. "We will see how this goes. Bu' if you feel tired a' all, or if you feel dizzy in the least, we need you to tell us immediately. All right?"

Phil nodded slightly. "I will," he assured him.

Jay met the Chief's gaze. "Ready?"

Darren nodded in return, and both he and the medic reached out and carefully took Phil's arms. The younger man allowed them to gently pull him off of the bed and slowly help him into a standing position. The officer wavered for a minute, briefly closing his eyes as he attempted to gain his balance before he smiled at Jay and Darren.

"I'm okay."

The Chief sighed quietly, lightly squeezing Phil's arm. "I'm glad to hear tha', lad," he replied. "All right. Carefully, now."

Phil nodded, his hazel eyes set ahead of him as he slowly began to take a few steps forward, the Chief and Jay close on either side of him. He had to lean on them somewhat for support, grateful for their guiding arms as he kept going. But all that mattered to him was that he was finally getting out of bed for the first time that he could remember.

Jay and Darren helped Phil until they were about halfway around the room when the officer mentioned that he was a little dizzy, and the latter hurriedly grabbed the chair beside the bed for him to sit on for a few minutes until he felt up to continuing. Phil's attention was drawn to the television high on the wall as he leaned forward on his knees slightly, seeing that the baseball game the Chief had found had come back from commercial. Jay kept a close eye on him for a minute before he turned to the Englishman and nodded toward the door, and they both wandered over and stopped in the doorway.

"His progress is encouraging," the medic said quietly, a smile on his face. "I didn't expect him to get too far today. But who knows? In a few days, we may have him walking around the room a couple times or even in the hall out here. We'll just have to take it slow. But at least he's able to get out of bed now. When he first came in, I had my concerns about the skull fracture. But it seems like he'll be making a full recovery in good time."

Darren returned the look. "Yes, i' is good to see," he agreed. "I've been seeing bits and pieces of him the past couple of days."

Jay's smile broadened. "I have too," he replied. "It's good to see Phil coming back."

The Chief chuckled quietly before his smile waned a bit. "Tha' i' is. Is there any improvemen' in his memory?"

"Well, aside from remembering the two of us and from time to time Lynne, not really," the Canadian native told him with a sigh. "But we'll have to give that time too, Darren. It could be anytime."

Darren nodded in silent response. Jay reached out and patted his arm before he took a step back into the room to make sure Phil was all right. The Chief was about to follow him when a familiar face out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. "I'll be right back, Jay."

"All right, Darren."

The Englishman turned and started to make his way down the hallway to where some vending machines stood, slowing to a stop behind two men in uniform who were buying a couple sodas. "Excuse me?"

The couple members of the hospital's security staff turned around at the sudden voice, and the shorter, lighter-haired one smiled in return. "Chief Matthews," he greeted, quickly shaking his hand.

"Hello, Ambrose," Darren replied with a slight smile as he reached into his suit pocket. "I would have given these back to you sooner, bu' I didn' see you when I was here before."

Dean looked at what the older man pulled out, and he chuckled quietly as he reached out and took his handcuffs from him. "No problem," he told him, putting them on his belt. "You needed them more than me. Glad they were useful."

"Yes, they were very helpful," Darren muttered almost thoughtfully. "Really helped the case my officers are working on."

"Glad to hear it." Dean then glanced at the man next to him, who had dark hair that was streaked blond on one half that was tied behind his head, as he bent over to grab the soda out of the vending machine that he had gotten. "Oh, by the way, Sir, this is Rollins."

"Just Seth, Chief Matthews," the other young security guard clarified as he straightened back up, holding his free hand out to the Englishman.

Darren smiled slightly as he shook it. "Ah, yes, I remember seeing you at the Academy, Seth, as well as Dean here," he replied while Dean turned to quickly buy his own soda from the machine. He paused for a moment, thinking about the last time he had encountered one of these young men, before he sighed. "I was wondering if I could ask a favor of you both."

Seth nodded in return while Dean looked at him curiously over his shoulder. "Sure, Chief," he muttered. "What do ya need?"

"One of my officers was admitted here a few nights ago," Darren explained. "Because of his condition, Jason Reso has only allowed myself and some of his close friends and family to visi' him. Last night, there was an intruder in his room, which is why I needed your handcuffs, Dean. I was hoping, if i' would not be too much trouble tha' is, tha' maybe one of you could stay around this area if Jason or myself are no' in the room with him. I am here a lo' of the time, bu' there are times were I need to be a' the station, and Jason has a lo' of patients. I am just worried abou' the safety of my officer."

Dean stood up once the machine vended his drink and turned to face Darren. "That's Brooks' room, right?" When the Englishman nodded in response, he glanced at Seth. "I don't see that being a problem, do you?"

Seth shook his head as he glanced at the Chief. "It shouldn't be," he added, taking a sip of his soda. "If, for some reason, one of us can't be in this hall while you guys aren't here, Roman could always do it too."

"Reigns was transferred here at the same time we were last year," Dean quickly explained. "We've been close ever since. Don't worry, Sir, he can be trusted."

Darren chuckled quietly. "For some reason, I seem to remember the three of you causing a bi' of trouble in your days a' the Academy," he muttered, causing both Dean and Seth to smile. "Bu' if you could keep an eye on Brooks when Jason and I canno', tha' would be greatly appreciated."

Seth nodded, his smile lingering. "Consider it done, Chief," he told him.

"Yeah, we'll make sure Officer Brooks is well taken care of while he's here," Dean said in agreement.

The Englishman sighed with relief. "Thank you both," he replied. "I'll be here until later tonight, so you won' have to worry abou' i' until then."

Seth nodded. "Sounds good to us. We're here all night."

Darren smiled slightly, glancing over his shoulder when he heard a door open to see that Jay was leaning out of the officer's room. "Phil's ready to go," he announced.

"I'll be right there." Darren watched as the medic disappeared back into the room before he turned to the young security guards. "Thank you once again, gentlemen. We'll be in touch."

"Talk to you soon, Chief," Dean said with a nod, taking a sip of his soda.

Chuckling quietly, Darren turned and walked back to the room Phil was using, stepping inside and seeing that the dark-haired man was looking up at them expectantly. "All right, Phil," he muttered, reaching out and lightly taking his arm. "Le' us keep going, shall we?"

Phil nodded as he smiled slightly, allowing him and Jay to help pull him to his feet. As they slowly continued to make their way around the room, Darren couldn't fight the small smile that was forming on his face. It was a relief for him to see the younger officer's fighting spirit still remained after all that had happened. He couldn't ask for more than his recovery, but he knew that he could only hope that for the other man's own sake, his memory would return soon.

* * *

Cody stretched out his neck as he made his way down the staircase that would bring him to where the holding area was located in the basement of the police station, his footsteps echoing seemingly loudly around him. His nerves were steadily rising with each step, and he took a deep breath in an attempt to settle them. This was his first interrogation, and he would be questioning a man who had not only kidnapped him, but was possibly involved in the assault on one of his best friends. He felt slightly better that Adam, who was in a meeting with the lawyer he had assigned for Michael Brooks, would be with him, but he felt that if he wasn't able to charge the older man, he wasn't just letting himself down, but Phil as well.

He had never felt so pressured in his time on the force.

"Hey, Cody."

The dark-haired officer stopped at the sudden deep voice, a small smile appearing on his face when he saw a man with a buzz cut and sleeves of tattoos walking toward him from the direction of the work-out facility wearing a dark tank top and sweatpants, a red gym bag draped casually over his toned shoulder. "How's it going?" Cody wondered, the look lingering as he shook the other man's hand when he approached before giving him a brief one-armed hug. "It's been a while, Randy."

Officer Randy Orton returned the smile as he nodded in agreement. The St. Louis native had transferred to Chicago from Missouri over ten years before and was one of the few officers remaining who had worked with Darren before he was Chief and the station had been under the strict and watchful eye of Adam. Cody had been fortunate to have the now senior officer as his mentor when he had joined the police force as a rookie, and he couldn't have asked for a better guiding hand and friend.

"It has been a while," Randy agreed with a slight nod. "And it's going all right. I've been having a lighter schedule lately, which is good since I can be home for Alanna a lot more often." He arched an eyebrow. "You seem tense. Everything okay?"

Cody sighed quietly. "Yeah, fine," he answered. "But that's great about you being home more often. I'm sure Alanna misses her dad when he's away."

Randy smiled in return. "She's a bundle of energy," he muttered, chuckling quietly at the thought of his three-year-old daughter. But then, he met Cody's gaze. "So, I've heard that Darren put you on an interrogation. Is that what's got you so tense?"

Not seeing any way out of it, Cody nodded slightly. "I'll admit I'm a bit nervous," he replied. "But Adam will be with me, so..."

"He taught me everything I know about interrogations," Randy said thoughtfully. "If he's there to help you, you'll be just fine."

Cody felt a small smile appear on his face. "Thanks, man."

Randy reached out and patted him on the arm. "I trained you well." Another small smile appeared on his face. "Hey, if you're not busy one night, how about we go out for a couple drinks and catch up?"

"Sounds good to me, Randy," the younger officer told him with a nod. But then, a quiet sigh escaped his lips. "Well, I'd better get going..."

"Go make me proud, kid," Randy muttered, his smile lingering.

Cody weakly returned it before he continued to walk down the dimly lit hallway to where their interrogation rooms were while Randy made his way up the stairs to the main level of the police station. He took a deep breath as he rounded the corner, his blue-green eyes landing on the door ahead of him nervously. He hesitated for a brief moment before straightening his shoulders slightly, crossing the rest of the distance in only a few short strides before he pulled open the door and stepped inside.

At the table across from him sat Michael Brooks, who was staring straight ahead of him with an impassive look on his face. Adam stood in front of the long two-way mirror along one wall with a man wearing a dark suit whose longer black hair was tied back behind his head, speaking with him in quiet tones. At the sound of the door opening, however, the former Chief glanced over his shoulder and gave a small smile to the younger officer.

"Cody, this is Kofi Sarkodie-Mensah," he said, gesturing to the other man. "He is the lawyer we appointed for Mr. Brooks in his defense."

"Nice to meet you, though I think I may have seen you around before," Kofi added, holding his hand out to Cody.

"I think we have," Cody agreed as he quickly shook it. "Are you a friend of Phil Brooks? I think I saw you at his surprise birthday party last year."

"Ah, so _that's _where I've seen you before," Kofi muttered with a smile.

Cody returned the look, but before he could say anything, Adam cleared his throat and held out a manilla folder to him. Cody took it in his hand before he turned to Michael, a smug smile appearing on his face as he approached the table. "Good to see you again, Brooks."

Michael smirked slightly as he met the other man's gaze. "As I said before, pity you escaped last time," he muttered.

Chuckling quietly, Cody pulled out the chair in front of him and sat down, leaning forward on the table to meet his gaze better. "I wouldn't flaunt that around too much," he cautioned. "After all, you _will_ be serving time for kidnapping an officer, and there's nothing that your lawyer can do about that. The Chief of Police has also filed another charge of attempted murder, considering that the car that belongs to the gunman who attempted to shoot him belongs to you. And that also brings me to your third charge, which is shooting an officer. Also to add to your list of offenses, one count of domestic disturbance."

As he was speaking, Cody set each form from the manilla folder on the table in front of the arrested man. Michael eyed each one nervously before he turned his gaze to the lawyer who had been hired to represent him. Kofi just met his gaze sternly, knowing that all he could do at this point involving those four charges was try to negotiate for the least severe sentence he could.

"What are you calling for?" he wondered.

However, Cody shook his head slightly as he glanced back at Kofi, noticing that Adam was watching him thoughtfully as he chewed his fresh mint gum and leaned back against the wall behind him with his arms crossed. "I'm not finished," he told him before he turned back to Michael. He pulled out one more form and set it on the top of the others. "I want to know about the assault on Officer Phil Brooks."

**Author's Note**: And, a bit of a cliffhanger, lol. But, there are a couple key details in here that shouldn't be overlooked, even if they weren't necessarily clues. Did you spot them? If you did, feel free to leave them in your reviews! OTherwise, more will be revealed as we continue on. Thanks for reading! Your reviews are much appreciated. Thanks!


	26. Chapter 26

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing associated with the WWE. Just any OCs!

**Summary**: AU. "Never take anything for granted. For everything can be taken away in a heartbeat." When a brutal attack causes Phil Brooks to lose his memory, he struggles to not only piece his life back together and regain what was lost, but also to discover who still wants him dead.

**Author's Note**: Hey, thanks for your reviews! Well, from my end, it looks like there will be seven more chapters of this story, so we have a bit to go yet. Plenty of time to piece together any final clues you guys are seeing to try to figure out the answer to the case before the officers do. As always, enjoy and happy hunting! :)

_Chapter 26_

The next few weeks seemed to inch by slowly.

Scott was technically back from his suspension, but Adam still had yet to return his gun. He felt that with his current state of mind, he shouldn't be in possession of the firearm yet, and he had the younger man mainly doing odd jobs around the station. Nick had fully recovered from his surgery and was happily home with his wife and children, and though he would stop into the station occasionally to see how things were going, he was never able to stay too long. He even brought the twins with him a couple times, where they caught everyone's attention. Cody was almost working overtime on the case in regards to the assault on Phil, and though he had interrogated Michael Brooks on a number of occasions, the older man was refusing to talk about his involvement in the attack as well as about who else was involved, but it was clear that they weren't getting any connections to Stu Bennett as the possible second person who had been involved in the assault. Kofi, the lawyer who had been assigned to his case, had seemed rather stressed throughout the negotiation process, mainly because he had to defend the man who could have been responsible for nearly killing one of his closest friends. Layla, though glad that he was trying to help their dear friend, was starting to worry that her fiancé was going to overwork himself. Because Phil was recovering quickly, at least physically, Darren was seen around the station more often, even though Adam was still serving as acting Chief until he returned full time. Barbara had been released from the hospital weeks before, and she had to admit that she was feeling healthier than she had in a long time as she continued to see a nutritionist. Matt had been assigned to work with Cody full time since even though his mentor was recovering well, he wouldn't be returning to the station for the foreseeable future.

Phil himself was ready to be released from the hospital. Jay and other doctors had done all they could for him in his physical recovery, and he was simply getting restless sitting in bed all day since he was capable of walking around on his own and doing whatever else he needed to do. His ribs were mended, the swelling of his brain had decreased dramatically, and the skull fracture was showing signs of nearly being healed as well. The only reason that Jay tried to keep him as long as possible was the lingering memory loss. That had improved slightly as well, since Phil could now recognize his, Darren, and Lynne's faces and give them the right name, and he was getting better with baseball terminology. However, he didn't feel that holding him in the hospital any longer was the right thing to do anymore, and they had to come up with a plan.

"He certainly can't be living on his own," Jay told Darren when he was in the hospital to visit Phil next. "It would overwhelm him, and I'm concerned that he could accidentally harm himself in some way if he was left unsupervised."

The Chief worried his bottom lip between his teeth. "Wha' if he stayed with me?" he posed. "He knows who I am, and I don' have to be a' the station ye' since Adam is still there. I could be home while he is and keep an eye on him. Tha' way, he doesn' have to be held here, bu' he wouldn' be alone."

Jay thought this information over for a moment before he nodded slightly. "If you feel comfortable with that arrangement, and if you think your family wouldn't mind, I think that may help him," he stated. "I know that Lynne's a teacher, and you'd be able to be home more..."

"My family won' mind," Darren assured him. "He's a part of i' anyway. The most importan' thing to me is tha' i' would help Phil, and if I'm able to do so by allowing him to stay with me, I'm no' gonna say no to tha'."

A smile appeared on the medic's face. "Well, then, we have some release forms to fill out."

About ten minutes later, the Chief returned to Phil's hospital room along with Jay. The officer glanced away from the television and looked at the two men curiously, noticing the cheerful looks that were on both of their faces. "What's going on?" he wondered.

Jay took a few steps closer to the bed. "I have some good news for you, Phil," he told him. "You're going to be walking out of here today."

Phil's face brightened up, causing Darren to chuckle. "Where am I going?" he pressed. Anywhere could have been better than the white bed with the uncomfortable sheets.

"For a while, you will be staying a' my house," the Englishman said. "Is tha' all right with you?"

"Sounds good to me, Darren," Phil replied, his smile lingering. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, lad." The Chief then handed Phil a Rancid t-shirt and a pair of jeans that Lynne had dropped off for him a couple days before, and he and Jay stepped out into the hallway to give the younger man some privacy.

"I've got some matters to see to downstairs," the medic muttered, checking over the clipboard he held. "I'll see you at the front desk when you leave."

"See you soon, Jay." Darren watched as the other man left before he sighed quietly to himself and glanced up and down the busy hallway. He was relieved that Phil was finally able to leave the hospital since at first, he regretted to admit that he wasn't sure what fate had awaited the officer. But fortunately, he was a fighter, and he was well on his way to returning to his old self.

"So, I heard Brooks is going home today."

Darren glanced up to see that Dean Ambrose and Seth Rollins were walking down the hall toward him. "It's good to hear," the latter continued, having spoken first. "I'm glad he's making a full recovery."

"Yes, as am I," the Chief agreed with a small smile. "And I wan' to thank both of you for keeping your eye on him. I'm glad there weren' any problems."

"Nope, all was quiet," Dean assured him, taking a sip of the soda he held in his hand. "And if you need anything else, here's our numbers. Feel free to give us a call."

Darren took the small piece of lined paper that the younger man was offering him, nodding slightly as he slipped it in his pocket. "Thank you, I will."

Then, the door of the room opened, and Phil stepped out into the hallway. The Englishman couldn't help but chuckle, seeing that the younger man appeared to be more than ready to leave the hospital. He glanced at the Chief, Seth, and Dean, giving them all a small smile. "So, when can we go?"

"Soon, lad." Darren's smile lingered as he reached into the pocket of his beige dress pants. "There is something I wan' to give you, Phil, something importan' tha' I believe you would like to have back."

Phil watched curiously as he pulled out what appeared to be a black wallet and held it out to him. He took it and slowly opened it, recognizing his own face to be looking back at him from one side while a badge from the Chicago Police Department sat on the other. He recognized it somewhat, realizing that he must have been an officer like Darren since he had something similar, and he closed it and slipped it into the pocket of his jeans. The older man was right in saying that it was something important.

"Thank you."

About five minutes and a quick check-up from Jay later, Darren and Phil were sitting in the front seats of the Chief's car, and they drove out of the hospital parking lot once they both had their seatbelts on. Phil was looking up and down the busy streets with wonder while Darren surfed through the radio stations to try to find music he thought the officer would like.

"I have to stop by the station to see how everything is going there before we go home," he spoke up when he came to a stop at a red light. "Do you wan' to come in with me?"

"The station?" Phil repeated, glancing back at the older man. "Is that where you work?"

Darren nodded slightly. "Yes, Phil, tha' is where I work," he told him. "You have been there as well. There may be some people there who would like to see you, if you would wan' to see them."

Phil appeared thoughtful for a moment before he smiled a little. "Sure, I'd like that," he said.

"Good." Darren's cheerful look lingered as he once again started driving while Phil once more looked around them with awe.

It took longer than it usually would to reach the station from the hospital due to the heavy lunchtime traffic, but the Englishman finally pulled into the parking lot and found a spot near the back. He shut the car off and turned to the other man. "Here we are."

Phil briefly met his gaze before he took his seatbelt off after the older man did, and they both stepped out of the car and began their walk to the tall building that loomed before them. He looked up at it thoughtfully, thinking that it was somewhat familiar, but he couldn't quite remember why other than he had been there many times as he followed Darren inside through the automatic doors.

Layla, who had been staring at the computer screen behind the front desk, looked up when she heard the doors open. "Hey, Chief," she greeted with a smile. But then, she dropped the pen that she had been absently twirling between her fingers as the cheerful look changed into one of shock, her eyes widening when she saw the other man with him. "_Phil_!"

The dark-haired officer watched, surprised, as Layla rose to her feet and hurried around the desk toward them, but she was gently stopped by Darren. "Calmly, luv," he told her quietly, though there was a smile on his own face. "You don' wan' to overwhelm him. He is still having a few problems with his memory."

"Right." The day dispatcher cleared her throat quietly as she then turned to Phil and held her hand out to him. "Hello, Phil. My name is Layla."

"Layla?" Phil repeated, smiling slightly as he shook her proffered hand. "You seem... a bit familiar. Have we met before?"

Sighing as a thin line of tears formed in her eyes, Layla nodded. "Yes, Phil, you're a dear friend," she muttered.

"Well, then I guess it's good to see you again," Phil said. "Though I can't remember the last time we were together..."

"Oh, it's okay," Layla assured him, trying to force back her tears. "I'm just glad to see you here."

Phil nodded slightly in response, his small smile lingering, as Layla turned her attention back to Darren. "Everything's going smoothly around here, Chief," she stated, taking a deep breath. "Unfortunately, Michael's still not budging on revealing who his partner in crime is, if he truly is involved in the assault, and though we've been in contact with Bennett, there seems to be no connection there other than the car. But we're doing everything we can."

"Good. Tha' is all I can ask for. We'll find some answers soon." At least, he hoped they would. Darren sighed quietly, but then his eyes shone when he gazed at the engagement ring on Layla's left hand. "I'm happy for you."

The dispatcher followed his gaze, absolutely beaming. "Thanks so much, Darren," she murmured. "I just... I can't believe that I'm actually going to get married. It's so surreal. I just wish..."

Darren's eyes narrowed slightly when her sentence trailed off, knowing what Layla had been about to say. "Your parents would be proud of you too, luv," he told her quietly. "I knew your father well. He was a good man, and a good partner. There is no way he could be any happier for you."

Layla felt tears beginning to sting her eyes once more. She had been devastated when her mother had died of disease and when her father had been killed in the line of duty in England. Darren had been his partner on the force at the time, and he had filled his shoes as best as he could for her until she moved to the States to attend college and pursue her career in law enforcement with his help. To that day, the Chief was still the closest thing she had to a father.

"That means a lot to me," she finally managed to whisper. "As does your happiness."

Darren chuckled quietly as he lightly wound his arms around her and pulled her close, feeling as Layla clung to him tightly for a moment before they each pulled away. "Your happiness is a high priority of mine, you know tha'," he said, briefly setting his hand on the side of her head. "It lifts my heart to see you smile so much."

Layla laughed a little herself as she glanced down at the ring she wore again. "You'll be there, won't you?" she asked. "Whenever we set a date?"

"I would no' miss i' for the world," Darren answered. "But now, luv, I must speak with Adam. Is he here?"

"Yeah, he's in your office," Layla replied.

"Good." Darren glanced over his shoulder at Phil, who was absently wandering around the lobby as he inspected everything. The Englishwoman followed his gaze.

"With that t-shirt, he's looking like his old self again," she muttered.

Darren nodded slightly. "Tha' he is," he agreed just as quietly. "I'm just hoping tha' the rest of his memory will return soon. Will you keep an eye on him?"

"Sure, of course."

The Chief patted her on the shoulder before he turned his gaze back to the younger officer. "Phil, lad, I have a couple things I must see to," he said. "Would you mind staying here for a few minutes? Layla will stay here too."

Phil paused in his wandering and glanced back at the Englishman. "Sure, Darren, that's fine."

Darren smiled in return before he passed the front desk and pushed open the door that led to the back offices. Layla watched the Chief until he was out of sight before she took a deep breath and turned back to the other man, who was still getting a good look at everything in the lobby, with a smile.

"So, Phil, how are you doing today?" she wondered pleasantly.

Phil glanced over at her curiously for a brief moment before he nodded once. "I'm doing all right," he replied. "A little tired, but anything's better than being kept up in that place any longer."

Layla's smile turned a bit somber at that, knowing that he was talking about the hospital and also realizing that he wasn't used to being out of it. "Well, it's good to see you up and about, that much is certain," she muttered. "We were all really worried about you."

The dark-haired man smiled slightly in return, able to tell that this woman, whoever she was, had genuinely missed him. She must have been one of the people who wanted to see him as Darren had said. He watched as she walked behind the desk that she had been sitting at when he and the Chief had walked in to check something on the computer there before he continued his wandering, his gaze landing on a wall where many pictures were hung.

"That's a lot of people," Phil commented, walking a little closer to get a better look.

Layla glanced up, her gaze faltering a bit when she remembered when she had thought she had seen Phil's own picture on the memorial wall. She had never been more relieved that he was there looking at it instead. "Yes, those are some of the bravest men and women that I knew," she told him. "They all died while doing their jobs."

Phil's hazel eyes narrowed slightly as he scanned over all the faces that were smiling back at him. "I'm sorry to hear that." But then, he caught sight of a face that was familiar to him, and he bent over a little to get a better look at it before he briefly glanced over at the dispatcher. "Hey, Lay... Layla?"

A bit surprised that he had remembered her name, Layla quickly looked up and met his gaze. "Yes, Phil?"

The officer turned back to the wall and pointed at a picture in the bottom row. "Can you tell me who this is?" he wondered.

"Sure thing." Layla walked back around the desk and crossed the lobby to join him, bending over a little herself to see who he was looking at. Her stomach plummeted. "Oh, that's Officer Chris Irvine," she explained. "He was the last one who was killed in the line of duty. Why do you ask?"

Phil didn't answer for a long moment as he continued to stare at the photograph of the smiling blond-haired officer. The nightmare he had immediately came back to him, able to clearly see his body lying in the coffin and his grieving wife. "Did... did I know him?" he pressed.

A thin line of tears returned to Layla's dark eyes as she thought about what to tell him. "He was on the police force while you were for a few years," she finally managed to say, not wanting to overwhelm him with the information that Chris had been killed while he was his mentor. "Do you recognize him?"

"Yes." Phil continued to intently stare at the photograph, also able to see the image of the man named Chris being shot in the dark house, for a few more minutes before he sighed heavily.

Layla looked at him with concern and set her hand lightly on his toned shoulder. "What's wrong, Phil?" she asked in just above a whisper.

Phil slowly looked back at her. He had so many questions that he wanted to ask about the officer named Chris and why he seemed to have been so important to him, but he didn't know which ones to settle on first or even how to ask them. Before he could even attempt to try, the door that led to the back offices opened again. Darren walked back into the lobby with a man who had blond hair tied back into a ponytail, a black Rolling Stones t-shirt, a pair of light jeans that were ripped in the knees, and a pair of black Converse, chewing gum as he spoke with the Englishman. A couple steps behind them was a dark-haired man with blue-green eyes and a man with light spiked hair who had a pair of sunglasses sitting on top of his head, both wearing matching dark uniforms. They were all deep in conversation about something that he couldn't hear, at least until they all looked at him and Layla.

The apparently youngest member of the group was the first to react.

"Officer Brooks!" The man with spiked hair hurriedly passed by Darren and the blond-haired man and approached the dark-haired officer, a broad smile on his face. "I-I mean Phil! It's so great to see you, man!"

Phil looked back at him with confusion while Layla smiled as she looked back at the ecstatic man. "Um, it's good to see you too..." he muttered.

Darren chuckled as he walked over to where the trio stood, setting his hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Phil, I'd like to introduce you to rookie officer Matthew Cardona," he said. "He was learning a thing or two from you."

"Just call me Matt," the rookie quickly added.

"Oh." A teacher to younger officers wasn't something that he really saw himself being, but Phil smiled anyway as he held his hand out to him. "Nice to meet you again then, Matt."

"Yeah, man!" The broad grin lingered on Matt's face as he reached out and firmly shook his mentor's hand, despite how strange it was to be introduced to him a second time. "It's really good to see you're doing better!"

"Thank you," Phil replied once he dropped his hand, seeing that the other dark-haired man had gone to stand by Layla, his arm wound around her waist. The Englishwoman smiled when she saw his wondering gaze.

"Phil, this is Officer Cody Runnels," she told him, glancing up at Cody. "He's my fiancé."

"Fiancé?" Phil repeated, slightly confused.

The dark-haired officer named Cody smiled slightly himself. "Yes, I asked Layla to be my wife," he explained.

"Oh, okay." Phil smiled slightly in return. "That's good news. I'm happy about that."

"Yes, it is," Cody agreed with a quiet chuckle. Then, he extended his hand out toward the other man. "Though it's also good to see you doing okay, Phil. As Layla said, my name is Cody. We've known each other for quite some time, back to our years when we were in training."

Phil's smile broadened as he shook his proffered hand. "I wish I remembered that, and I'm sorry that I don't," he muttered. "But thank you. It's good to see people who've missed me."

Cody grinned at the officer's small attempt at humor, glad to see signs of his old friend again. It had been far too long. "We have, Phil," he told him, patting his arm. "We really have."

Then, Phil turned to face the last member of the group who hadn't said anything, looking at him curiously. Layla, Matt, and Cody had all seemed a little bit familiar, he felt comfortable around them at any rate, but this man was new to him entirely. "I'm sorry, but I don't know who you are..."

The blond man smiled as he took a couple steps forward. "That's all right, you would have no way of knowing," he said. "My name is Adam Copeland. I used to be the Chief of Police here before I was forced to retire, but since Darren here hasn't been at the station too often, I've agreed to stand in as acting Chief until he returns full time."

"Well, it's nice to meet you," Phil replied, holding his hand out toward him in the manner that everyone had been greeting him.

Adam smiled slightly and shook it after a moment. "Likewise, Phil. It's good to see that you'll make a full recovery."

Darren smiled as he watched them before he sighed. "Well, I'm glad to see tha' everything is in order here," he muttered. "Bu' I think it's time for us to head home. Adam, thank you for all of your help, you have been a lifesaver around here. Cody, Matthew, keep up the work on your case. Hopefully we'll come closer to finding some answers, and as always, keep me informed."

Matt nodded in response while Cody briefly glanced at Phil. "Will do, Chief."

Phil looked back at the other dark-haired officer curiously, wondering what case they were working on. He hoped it didn't have anything to do with him since he would rather have been helping them if it did. But after saying their goodbyes, he found himself following Darren back out of the station into the packed parking lot, making their way back to his car. Once he was situated in the passenger seat, Phil pulled the wallet the Chief had given him out of his pocket and opened it, lightly tracing a tattooed finger over the badge.

"Darren?"

The Englishman glanced over at him as he started the car, noticing what the younger man was looking at. "Yes, lad?"

Phil looked up from his picture and met his gaze. "I'm an officer at this station, aren't I?" he wondered, taking a deep breath when the Chief nodded in the affirmative. "When can I come back?"

Darren's gaze saddened slightly, but he forced a smile. "Soon, Phil," he told him as he started to back out of the parking space. "Soon."

* * *

Scott turned down the radio a little as he pulled into the parking lot of the station, a big bag full of food from the Chinese restaurant a few blocks away for lunch for himself and some other officers sitting in the seat next to him. He bitterly wondered what Adam would have him do next around the station considering he seemed to have cleaned or organized everything that could possibly be cleaned or organized. He had never been more anxious to be out in the field.

He had just found a spot to park and turned his car off when he noticed the car that he recognized to belong to Darren heading toward the entrance of the lot. Scott hummed quietly to himself as he grabbed the bag from the passenger seat and stepped out from behind the wheel, locking up the car as he prepared to make his way to the station.

But then, he stopped and nearly dropped the food when he saw that someone was sitting in the seat next to the Chief, recognizing his face instantly as he looked around at his surroundings in a studying way.

It was Phil.

Scott took a couple steps after the car in disbelief, but he couldn't do anything else as Darren pulled out of the lot when there was finally a break in the busy traffic and drove out of sight.

**Author's Note**: So, this is a bit of a lighter chapter, but things will definitely start picking up again shortly! Thanks for reading! Your reviews are much appreciated. Thank you!


	27. Chapter 27

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing associated with the WWE. Just any OCs!

**Summary**: AU. "Never take anything for granted. For everything can be taken away in a heartbeat." When a brutal attack causes Phil Brooks to lose his memory, he struggles to not only piece his life back together and regain what was lost, but also to discover who still wants him dead.

**Author's Note**: Hey, thanks for the reviews! So, though the last chapter was a bit slower, you can definitely expect things to pick up again very, very soon. Any clues spotted along the way, feel free to leave them in your reviews! As always, enjoy and happy hunting! :)

_Chapter 27_

"Hello, Phil, good to see you. Come on in and make yourself comfortable, dear."

"Thank you." Phil stepped through the front door of the comfortable, two story Victorian-style house, slipping his tennis shoes off on a mat where other pairs of shoes were all gathered before he looked around the narrow entrance hall. There was a closet on one wall and a small, ornate table on the other, which contained a purple marble-patterned vase with fresh red and yellow tulips and a couple of framed photographs. He glanced behind him at the friendly black-haired woman who had greeted him when he and Darren had arrived, watching as she quickly kissed the Chief as he wrapped his arms around her before he turned his attention back to the photographs.

One was of a younger Darren and the woman, who he had told him was his wife before they had gotten out of the car, where the former was wearing a tuxedo and the latter was wearing a long, beautiful white dress. The second photograph was of three boys, two of which had sandy hair like the Englishman while the one who appeared to be the youngest had black hair, all smiling broadly as they played outside together. And the third photograph appeared to be much more recent where the three boys were older, two almost as tall as Darren while the third dark-haired one still had some growing to do. The five of them were standing together in front of a wooden picnic table, an array of food spread out behind them.

"I see you have found the pictures of my family."

Phil glanced over his shoulder when he heard the familiar voice, smiling slightly as Darren approached him as he slipped a plain gold band on his left ring finger. "I'm sorry, I just couldn't help but notice them," he muttered.

"No, it's all right, lad," Darren assured him, a proud glint in his eye as he gazed at the pictures himself. "There is no harm in looking. You've already me' my wife, Christina." He gestured to the first photograph of him and the woman. "And these boys are my sons. Daniel, my oldest, is away at college in Minneapolis as a freshman studying History. He graduated from high school a year early due to his grades. Dane is a junior in high school, and he wants to attend the Chicago Police Academy when he graduates next year. Perhaps he will be accepted to the force as a rookie while you are still there. And Bailey, my youngest, is in eighth grade. He is quite the baseball player."

A smile appeared on Darren's face when Phil glanced in his direction with interest. "You will mee' Dane and Bailey tonight," he continued. "Dane will be home in abou' twenty minutes or so, depending on traffic. And Christina will be picking up Bailey in abou' an hour."

"And before tha', I'll be shopping for dinner," Christina added as she joined her husband and Phil, turning her attention to the officer. "Is there anything you wan' special, dear?"

"Um..." Phil glanced at Darren before he turned back to Christina. "After eating the food where I was for all that time, anything will be good."

Christina smiled and chuckled a little. "Yes, I know hospital food isn' very appealing," she said. "Well, Darren has told me tha' you really enjoy fish. The weather's no' too bad today, maybe we could prepare i' ou' on the grill. To go with i', we could maybe have some mixed vegetables and garlic bread, and for an added trea' because we have a guest, some ice cream sundaes for dessert."

"Tha' is a lo' of food you have planned there, Christina," Darren replied with a quiet laugh of his own. "If you wan' to do the fish on the grill, though, I'll take care of tha'. And while that's cooking, you can make the vegetables and garlic bread."

"Sounds like a plan," Christina agreed as she turned back to the younger man. "If tha' sounds good to Phil, of course."

Phil smiled in return. "That sounds amazing," he told her honestly.

"Oh, good, I'm so glad!" Christina reached out and set both of her hands on his shoulders for a brief moment before she glanced at Darren. "I'm just going to make sure tha' Daniel's room is ready to go before I head to the grocery store and pick up Bailey."

Darren smirked. "While you do tha', I think I'll introduce Phil to the girls," he muttered.

Christina laughed, attempting to brush some rebellious strands of sandy hair out of her husband's face without success. "You don' wan' to scare Phil away, Darren."

Chuckling, Darren leaned down and kissed her cheek before she went up the nearby staircase. They both watched her until she was out of sight before the Chief turned his attention to Phil. "Since Daniel isn' home, we thought tha' you could use his room while you are here," he explained. "Is tha' all right with you?"

Phil glanced back at him. "Yeah, that's fine," he said. "But who are these girls that you want to introduce me to?"

Darren smiled, a gleam in his eye. "Come on, and I'll show you," he replied.

Curious, Phil followed the Englishman into the living room to find it to be dimly lit with a navy blue couch along the wall under the window and a plush red armchair in the opposite corner next to a tall wooden bookshelf filled with a large collection of old to new books and a small wooden table with an ornate reading lamp on its other side. There was also a good-sized flat screen television across the room with a gaming system and a good collection of movies and video games next to it.

But what really caught his attention were the three different-sized tanks along the same wall the couch was on, each equipped with a heat lamp that brightly illuminated its occupants. Darren laughed a little at the look of awe on the officer's face.

"Come see the girls," he muttered, lightly setting his hand on Phil's arm to guide him forward.

The largest of the three tanks sat on the floor, and the dark-haired man knew he had never seen one so big before. He wondered for a moment if he and Darren would even be able to lift it together if they tried. If it was empty, he realized, but with it full the way it was, it would be a losing battle. Phil crouched down on the floor in front of this monstrous tank, his eyes scanning over the plants that were evenly spread around inside to the decent-sized round water bowl until they finally rested on the creature that called it home who was basking lazily on a rock under the light of the heat lamp. She was one of the biggest reptiles that he had ever seen that had gray skin speckled with a few scattered black, yellow, and white spots. Her long tail was wound around her to the point where it almost reached her head, and he could also make out her long, dark claws.

"Tha' is a water monitor," Darren explained with a smile, watching as Phil briefly glanced back at him before he turned back to the tank's occupant, seemingly intrigued by her forked black tongue. "She is the largest lizard tha' we have, bu' she's very even-tempered. A lo' of the time when I'm home, I'll take her ou' of the tank, and she'll just si' on my shoulders while I do things around the house."

Phil smiled slightly himself as he watched the large lizard start to perk up a little, slowly walking forward to get some water out of the bowl. "She's... beautiful," he said with a quiet chuckle. "She really is. I'm just impressed that you can have her sit around your shoulders with those claws of hers."

Darren laughed a bit himself. "Well, she doesn' use them anymore," he replied. "She's an old girl, tha' one. A couple years older than this one here."

The officer watched as the older man walked over to another tank that was a little smaller than the first that was sitting against the adjacent wall not too far away from the first. Phil got to his feet and followed him, once again crouching down to see what was in this tank. He quickly found its inhabitant sitting on a rock among the plants, seeing that though she was big as well, she wasn't quite as large as the water monitor. She had gray skin as well, but there was a definite green tone to it, and she had a long tail and long claws like the first. The biggest difference that he could see was the flap of skin beneath her chin.

"Is she a lizard too?" Phil wondered, glancing up at the Chief. When Darren nodded, he turned back to the tank. "What is she?"

"This lady is a Cuban rock iguana," Darren told him, his smile lingering. "She's a little feisty at times, but overall, she doesn' cause trouble. Mostly, she'd rather laze around under the hea' lamp. She's getting up there in years too. Unlike our newest addition."

Phil looked up curiously when the Chief then approached a wooden table that had been set up between the two tanks on the floor, a third smaller one sitting on top of it. He rose to his feet to see what was in this one, finally spotting the occupant sitting on the floor of the tank near the water bowl, much smaller than the other two lizards before her. It appeared that she could comfortably sit in his hand except for her long white and black ringed tail. Her body was speckled with black and white as well, and her forked black tongue continually and quickly flicked in and out.

"What lizard is this?" he asked.

"The name of this one is a bi' longer than the other two, I'm afraid to say," Darren answered with a slight laugh. "She is an Argentine black and white tegu. She's just a baby, having only hatched abou' five months ago now. She's the only one I won' le' ou' of her tank ye'. She has to mature a bi' first."

Phil chuckled as he glanced at the Chief. "Makes sense," he muttered. "You must have had the other two for a long time, huh?"

"Oh, yes." Darren grinned. "I've had the other two for many years."

"I think they're amazing," Phil told him, looking at the three tanks around him again. "I'm not sure why Chris... Chris..." He hesitated for a moment.

"Christina," Darren gently reminded him, his eyes narrowing slightly when he saw the uncertain look that crossed Phil's face.

"Right. Christina." The dark-haired officer chuckled quietly, the distress quickly leaving his features. "Don't worry, I'll remember... But I'm not sure why Christina would think that the girls would scare me away."

Darren's smile returned, though his gaze remained thoughtful. "Well, no' everyone appreciates the beauty of lizards, Phil," he said. "Fortunately you do, so we have nothing to worry abou'. Bu' how abou' this? You don' have to remember wha' each one is, bu' you can help to take care of them. Feed them, change their water, things like tha'. Wha' do you say, Phil?" He had been caring for lizards for years, so he didn't need the younger man's help, but he thought that it would be a good idea to give Phil something to do while he stayed with him so that he wouldn't feel like he was an inconvenience to him and his family. He also hoped that some sort of routine would help with his slowly returning memory.

Luckily, Phil's face brightened up at this idea. "Really? Yeah, I'd love to!"

"Great." His cheerful look lingering, Darren gestured to a variety of containers of food that was sitting on the table beside the tank that held his youngest lizard, and Phil was startled to see that some were live insects. "Here's where all of wha' they ea' is. I have a specific system on wha' to give them when, so when morning comes tomorrow, we'll ge' started. Sound good?"

Phil tore his gaze away from the jumping insects as he turned to look at the Englishman. "Sure, Darren, that sounds good," he agreed.

Darren's smile broadened, but before he could say anything more, they heard the sound of a door opening and closing from the direction of the entrance hall before a voice called out, "I'm home!"

"Tha' would be Dane, my middle child," Darren muttered when Phil looked at him questioningly. "Come on."

Phil followed the Chief out of the living room and back to the entrance hall to see Dane was in the process of slipping out of his black and red plaid high-top Converse. His sandy-colored hair was tied back in a small ponytail behind his head, and he wore a black Linkin Park t-shirt and a pair of faded jeans that had a small rip in the right knee. He glanced up when he heard the approaching footsteps, smiling when he saw Darren.

"Hey, Dad."

"How was school?" Darren asked, giving his son a quick, one-armed embrace. "Do you have any homework?"

"It was okay," Dane answered with a slight shrug. "Just getting ready to take our finals before we get off for the summer. Nothing too exciting. And yeah, a little. I'll do it after dinner. It's just studying since they're not teaching us anything new at this point."

Darren chuckled. "Well, a' least finals will be over soon," he said. "Then you'll have three months off before you have to go back."

"And I can't wait for that," Dane replied before he grinned. "Could I come into the station with you sometimes again?"

The Chief chuckled. Ever since Dane had started high school and decided that he wanted to join the police force, he had allowed him to come into the station with him a few times when he was out of school for the summer to show him how things were done. He usually picked days where he himself didn't have to necessarily be out in the field since he didn't want to put his son in harm's way. "We'll see," he told him teasingly, patting him on the back. Then, he turned his attention to the other man. "Dane, I told you tha' Officer Phil Brooks would be staying with us for a little while."

The high school junior glanced at Phil and smiled, holding out his hand. "Hey, Officer Brooks. We've met a couple times, but never for very long. I'm Dane."

"I wish I could remember those times, but I really don't," Phil muttered with a smile of his own, shaking his proffered hand. "And it's just Phil. Were... you the one who wanted to be an officer too? Darren mentioned what all you kids were doing, but I'm not sure which is which yet."

Dane nodded, his smile lingering. "Yeah, that'd be me," he confirmed. "I guess Dad's passion for it rubbed off on me."

"Well, good." Phil chuckled. "I honestly don't know of any pointers I could give you at the moment, though I wish I did. But if you would like, I wouldn't mind talking about what you want to do on the force or anything like that. Who knows? Maybe it'll help me to remember bits and pieces too."

"I would like that. Maybe we could do that one night after dinner?"

Phil nodded. "Sounds good to me," he agreed.

Dane's smile broadened. Then, he noticed the shirt that the officer was wearing. "Rancid. Nice!" he said. "They're one of my favorites too."

"Well, it was just the shirt I was given to wear when I left wherever I was staying before," Phil muttered. "I wish I knew why I apparently like whatever this is."

"Don't worry about that, just leave that to me," Dane told him. "I've got some of their albums."

Phil met his gaze. "What do they do?" he wondered. "Music, it kinda sounds like?"

Dane nodded in confirmation. "Yeah! I'll play them for you sometime."

"I'd like that."

Darren smiled as he watched his son and Phil continue to talk to each other, glad that it seemed like they would get along. He hadn't had any worries about Dane while the officer stayed with them since he was a respectful kid, but his concern had been for Phil as he attempted to adjust to the different people around him. And so far, it appeared as though that would be okay as well.

Then, he glanced at the staircase next to him when he heard footsteps coming down them, watching as Christina appeared at the bottom with a smile on her face. "Hey, honey," she said when she saw Dane. "I didn' hear you right away since I was doing a little extra cleaning in Daniel's room. How was school?"

"It was fine." Dane then rolled his eyes with a smile on his face when his mother hugged him and kissed his cheek. "Come on, Mom..."

"Don' give me tha' look," Christina chuckled as she lightly pulled on his short ponytail. "Nothing's going to change just because we have a guest. I'm still going to embarrass you. Besides, you're never too old to hug your mother."

"I know." Dane laughed a little himself as he bent down and picked up his backpack from where he had dropped it on the floor while he had taken his shoes off. "I'm gonna go drop this off upstairs."

"He's a nice kid," Phil commented after Dane had gotten a good way up the stairs, Christina following after him to go get her car keys from the room she shared with the Chief so she could run to the grocery store and pick up their youngest son from school.

Darren nodded. "Tha' he is," he agreed before he laughed a little and shook his head. "Just wait until you mee' Bailey in a little while. He's a bi' more of a handful."

* * *

"Why the bloody hell am I here? Haven' you questioned me enough abou' tha' stupid car ye'? Or are you seriously jus' tha' bored?"

Cody sighed quietly with frustration as he led the way down the stairs from the lobby of the police station to where the holding area was, followed closely by Stu Bennett. He hadn't talked to him much since he had last questioned him at Dead Man's Tavern about the finishing details about the Chevy Malibu he had bought, but he certainly hadn't forgotten how unpleasant of a man he was to deal with. Matt followed along behind them, rolling his eyes as well.

"No, Mr. Bennett, we've already wrapped that part of the investigation up," Cody said. "Your car is no longer of interest."

Stu chuckled. "Then why am I here if i' ain' for tha' bloody car?" he pressed. "Do you really think I had something to do with tha' assaul' on your officer?"

Cody stopped when the trio reached a door, turning back to him with a forced broad smile. "You used to be a rookie," he reminded him. "I believe you know how this works." He then turned his blue-green gaze to the rookie that was with him. "You come on in too, Matt. I want you to get this experience."

Matt nodded as he followed the two dark-haired men into a small, dark room that was empty. Along one wall, however, was what appeared to be a long window that looked into another slightly larger room that was brightly lit. It contained a single table, and sitting at it was Michael Brooks. His hands were secured in handcuffs, and he was sipping what appeared to be coffee out of a styrofoam cup.

"He can't see us," Cody muttered to Matt before he could say anything. "It's a two-way mirror." Then, he turned his attention to Stu. "Mr. Bennett, we just have a few more details that we need to confirm. Do you recognize this man?"

Stu chuckled quietly as he crossed his arms. "Yeah, I recognize him," he replied. "Tha's the guy who sold me tha' car."

"Good." Cody made a quick note in his notepad. "I need you to tell me all that you know about that man."

"I don' know how much I can tell you tha' you don' already know." Stu shrugged slightly. "His name's Michael B. He sold me the car dir' cheap because I'm still trying to ge' on my fee'. He really wanted to ge' rid of i' for some reason, bu' as I've already said, he's borrowed i' a few times since."

"Anything else?" Cody asked. "Like anything more personal?"

"Wha' do I look like, his bes' friend?" Stu demanded. "I don' know the guy tha' well for God's sake! He only sold me a bloody car! Bu', from what I recall... he did have a lady friend."

"Do you know anything about her?" Matt suddenly spoke up. He ignored the raised eyebrow that Stu sent his way as he instead turned to Cody. "Remember the landlord at Michael's place? He said the same thing!"

Cody nodded slightly, keeping his face impassive as he glanced back at Stu. "Answer his question, Mr. Bennett," he added. "Do you know anything about this woman?"

Stu narrowed his eyes slightly in a thoughtful way. "She was ho', tha' much I remember," he told them, to which Cody inwardly rolled his eyes. "Um... brown hair. I believe she was Latina. If I recall righ', he mentioned something abou' how he me' her a' a bar she works a' downtown. I saw her once or twice as she was going to leave for work. She had tha' spor' type uniform."

Matt's eyes widened slightly. Cody glanced over at him curiously before he turned back to Stu. "Do you know her name?"

However, Stu just shook his head. "No, I don'," he answered. "Honestly, I don' even know if she and Michael were together. They seemed more like roommates. They were staying with..."

Cody glanced up from where he was writing notes in his notepad when the other man's sentence trailed off. "Staying with who, Mr. Bennett?" he pressed.

Stu's eyes narrowed for a minute before he shook his head again. "I'm no' sure," he muttered. "Jus' this guy. I didn' ge' a real good look a' him. He was never there when I was to deal with Michael abou' the car excep' for once, and all I saw was the back of his head."

"Well, at this point, anything would be helpful to our investigation," Cody said with a sigh. "Is there anything about him that stood out to you? Any little detail could be crucial."

"No' too much, I'm afraid," Stu replied with a slight shake of his head. "He had ligh' hair... Oh! He was walking with a sligh' limp."

Matt quickly turned to the other officer, his eyes wide. "Cody, when I watched the security footage from Dead Man's Tavern on the night of Phil's attack, one of the guys had a limp," he whispered excitedly.

Cody nodded slightly. "That's our guy, then." He turned back to Stu. "Are you absolutely certain that you can't tell us anything more about this guy?"

"I wish I could if you think he was involved in tha' assaul'," Stu muttered. "Bu' I'm sorry. I jus' saw the back of his head."

Sighing, Cody slipped his small notebook back into his pocket. "That's okay. We have one of the men most likely responsible in custody," he told him. "I'll question him again with the new information that you've given us." He turned to the rookie with him. "Our best bet would be to track down the woman who was with him."

Matt sighed heavily as he nodded. "Leave that to me, Cody."

The dark-haired officer arched an eyebrow. "Do you know something that you're not sharing with me, Matt?" he asked.

A moment passed before the younger man shook his head slightly. "I just have a suspicion," he answered quietly.

Cody sighed. "We'll talk about this later." He then turned back to Stu. "Well, Mr. Bennett, thank you for your time. It's greatly appreciated, and I hope your insight can help us get closer to apprehending the man who took out one of our greatest officers." He held his hand out toward him.

Stu looked down at it for a long moment before he nodded slightly. "I can tell this investigation is a personal one," he said. "He mus' be a good friend of yours. I wish you luck, Officer." He reached his own hand out and shook his proffered one.

"Thank you." Cody smiled as he dropped his hand before he gestured to the door of the small room. The three men stepped out into the hallway and made their way up the stairs that would bring them up to the main floor of the station. There, they found Adam picking up a couple files from the main desk while Layla packed up her bag since Barbara was there to take over.

"Hey, sweetheart, ready to go?" Layla asked when she saw Cody appear in the lobby with Matt and Stu close behind.

"Almost," Cody answered with a smile as he quickly met his fiancée's lips in a kiss. "I just need to fill out a report about this interrogation, and then I'll be ready to be off duty. It's been a long day."

Matt glanced at Barbara as she sat down behind the computer to log into her account before she started going through her backpack, pulling out her thick math book, a notebook, a couple pencils, and a calculator while Stu started wandering around the lobby a little, and he took a deep breath before he approached the desk. "Hey, Barbie," he muttered a tad nervously.

Barbara glanced away from her pile of school materials before she smiled herself, glancing at the screen as her homepage popped up. "Hey, Matt, how's the investigation going?" she wondered. "Well, I hope."

"Uh, yeah, it's going pretty well," Matt told her. "Hopefully soon we'll be able to figure out who's behind the attack on Officer Brooks."

"Good. It's such a shame what happened to him." Barbara sighed before the smile returned to her face as she looked back at the rookie. "Hey, Matt, I wanted to thank you for all that you've done for me lately with... well, with getting me to see a nutritionist and everything. Your support really means a lot."

"Oh! Anytime, Barbie. I'm... I'm glad that you're doing well." Matt's smile faltered as he took a deep breath. "So, um... I was wondering..."

Barbara curiously glanced up from flipping through her math book to the pages she had been assigned for homework. "Wondering what?" she pressed.

Matt worried his bottom lip between his teeth as he tried to figure out how to proceed, chuckling quietly. "Well, I was wondering if... you would like to, um... maybe get some dinner and a drink or something one of these nights," he said, definitely nervous now. "You know, if you're not busy..."

The night dispatcher looked at him for a moment as she contemplated her answer, realizing what it was the rookie was doing. A casual date with a man who had been very supportive of her couldn't hurt.

"Well, I have off on Friday," she told him. "What time do you get off work?"

"Friday?" Matt repeated, a grin spreading across his face. "That's tomorrow... I get off at seven... Would, would that really be okay with you?"

Barbara smiled. "That would be fine with me," she confirmed. "I'm afraid that my car's in the shop getting repaired at the moment..."

"No, no, that's okay!" Matt hurriedly assured her. "I'll pick you up when I get off of work. Just give me your address. I'll stop home and get ready, and then we can go. I'll get you at seven-thirty at the latest!"

The college student laughed at his clear nerves. "That'll be perfect."

Adam smiled slightly as he watched Matt and Barbara before he turned over to where Stu had stopped in front of the memorial wall, his gaze passing over all of the pictures that were hung there. He appeared pensive.

"I once sa' in fron' of this very wall and looked a' all of these faces thinking tha' they were some of the braves' men and women to ever live," he muttered, shaking his head slightly. "There are more faces on this wall than I remember. Bu' the las' time I saw i' was years ago..." His eyes then landed on the last picture of Chris Irvine, his former mentor, and his gaze faltered.

"Yeah, more people have died in the line of duty since you've been here," Adam said with a sigh. "It's a real shame. But I agree, they are men and women who are to be honored."

Stu nodded, his gaze not leaving Chris' smiling face. "There was a differen' Chief, too," he added, finally glancing over at Adam. "I's a shame tha' you were forced to retire. You were a good officer, and you're still a good man."

Adam rubbed his neck a little. "I wish I was still a part of the force," he replied. "But, Darren's running this place just fine. Though I must admit that I'm glad he asked me to step in for him. It's been great to meet the new blood in the force."

"I be'." Stu smiled slightly. "I's good to see you, Adam."

The former Chief nodded. "You also. Good to see you're doing well."

Stu then turned his attention to Cody. "Am I needed for anything more, or can I leave?" he asked.

Cody glanced up from where he was filling out his paperwork at the desk with Layla beside him. "You can leave, Mr. Bennett," he answered. "Thank you for your cooperation."

"You're welcome. Good luck in your investigation."

Adam watched as Stu crossed the lobby and stepped through the automatic doors before he turned his own attention to the dark-haired officer. "You're getting this case taken care of well, Cody," he said. "I'm proud of you, kid."

Cody smiled as he glanced up at the older man. "Thank you, Adam," he replied. I–!"

Suddenly, the glass from one of the windows near the doors shattered as what sounded like multiple gunshots rang out from the parking lot. Barbara screamed, leaping out of her seat before Matt wrapped his arms around her and pulled her down with him behind the desk. A similar sound escaped from Layla as Cody pushed her down beside the other dispatcher, covering her protectively when a second window shattered as another shot rang out, Matt also making sure Barbara was safe as Adam joined them. The five waited for a moment to see if there were going to be any more gunshots before Cody pushed himself to his feet and drew his gun, ignoring Layla's reaching hand as he ran toward the automatic doors with the rookie close behind, his weapon also in hand.

Both officers hurried out of the station, quickly looking around just as Adam stepped out after them. They were in time to see a dark car speeding out of the lot, car horns echoing loudly around them as it forced its way into the heavy traffic, not providing them with a clear shot.

Sighing, Cody lowered his gun while Matt did the same. He just put it back on his belt when he noticed a man lying on the ground near the first line of cars out of the corner of his eye, and he hurried forward with the rookie and former Chief to find Stu with an alarming amount of crimson on the front of his shirt and on his jeans, most of the color drained from his face.

"Get an ambulance!" the dark-haired officer demanded, watching as Adam hurried back toward the station before he knelt down next to the Englishman, Matt staying close as well. Upon closer inspection, he saw that he had been shot twice in the torso and once in the leg.

"Stay with me, Mr. Bennett!" Cody ordered anxiously, keeping one secure hand on the other man's shoulder and setting two fingers on the side of his neck to check for his pulse with the other. He was relieved to find it, and though it was weak, at least it was there. "Stay with me..."

**Author's Note**: Well, I did say things would be picking up very soon! Sorry to leave ya with a cliffhanger, but the next one will be up soon! Any clues spotted? Feel free to leave them in your reviews! Also, credit to **William Regal** himself for telling me what types of lizards he has :) It was a good added touch. Thanks for reading! Your reviews are much appreciated. Thanks!


	28. Chapter 28

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing associated with the WWE. Just any OCs!

**Summary**: AU. "Never take anything for granted. For everything can be taken away in a heartbeat." When a brutal attack causes Phil Brooks to lose his memory, he struggles to not only piece his life back together and regain what was lost, but also to discover who still wants him dead.

**Author's Note**: Hey, thanks for your reviews, guys! Well, we're definitely winding down, so clues will be definitely becoming more frequent since we're almost with the reveal! Keep a sharp eye out, though there will be some fun things as we go along as well! As always, enjoy and happy hunting! :)

_Chapter 28_

Phil opened the lid of the largest tank that sat on the floor in Darren's living room, smiling slightly as he looked down at the water monitor that was resting inside. It had been quite a busy morning after the first night he had spent there since the Chief had taken him to a small apartment in another part of town that was supposedly his to get some more changes of clothes for the upcoming week as well as some basic toiletries for him to use. Darren himself had then been called into the police station due to an emergency situation from the night before involving a shooting and some minor repairs that needed to be done. Though he didn't want to leave, he didn't have much of a choice, and he had promised he would be back as soon as he could. Christina had left for work earlier that morning, but she would also be home on her lunch break, and Dane was at school. Bailey had no school that day due to what Christina said was a "parent-teacher conference," and he was still sleeping in his room upstairs.

Sighing quietly, Phil set the fresh water bowl down in the tank before picking up the list that Darren had given him about what food to give to which lizard at what time. He wasn't sure why the Englishman and his wife felt the need to be home at every minute possible, but he hated that it seemed to be so they could be with him. He didn't want them to stop their daily routines just because he was there. He didn't want to be an inconvenience for them.

He glanced at the television when he heard cheering coming through the speakers, seeing that the home team that was playing in the baseball game he was watching had just scored a double home run before he looked back down at the list. Seeing that since it was approaching the noon hour and the water monitor had the crickets at that time, the dark-haired officer stood and grabbed the container of live, jumping insects.

But then, he paused when the loud sound of the doorbell ringing echoed around the house.

Unsure of what to do, Phil slowly set the crickets back down on the table next to the smallest tank, waiting to see if the sound would happen again. When it did, and when a couple more times in rapid succession followed, he quickly put the lid back on the largest tank before he got to his feet and hurried toward the entrance hall. He didn't necessarily feel comfortable answering the door since it wasn't his house, but he also didn't want Bailey to wake up since clearly, whoever was there had no intention to leave.

When he unlocked and opened the front door, Phil found himself met with a man who was a bit shorter and portlier than he was wearing a two-piece suit. He was older with a balding head, though the black hair that he did have was tied back in a small ponytail. When he saw the dark-haired officer, a broad grin spread across his face.

"Good afternoon to you, my good sir!" he said enthusiastically, reaching forward and shaking his hand. "How does this beautiful day find you, may I ask?"

"Um... fine, I guess," Phil muttered uncertainly. "I was just–!"

"Good to hear, good to hear!" The man dropped Phil's hand before a broad smile returned to his face. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Paul. And what is your name, my good sir?" He leaned forward slightly with clearly feigned interest, his hands folded together.

The officer was almost at a loss for words. "Uh... Ph-Phil..."

"Phil? Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Phil!" Paul reached out and heartily clasped the younger man on the arm, causing Phil to rub it afterward. "I know what you're thinking, my good sir! What honor brings me to _your_ doorstep today?"

"It... it's not my house..." Phil attempted to tell him before Paul interrupted him with a loud laugh.

"Never fear, my good sir! My offer is still the same!" Paul's expression immediately turned serious. "Have you ever had trouble finding the right gift for your kid sister's birthday?"

Phil stared back at him, bewildered. "Um... no. I don't–!"

"Or how about your parents' anniversary?" Paul pressed. "That's an important date, wouldn't you agree?"

Once again, Phil shook his head slightly. "Uh... I guess so. But I don't–!"

Paul, however, simply laughed. "That's all right, my good sir!" he said, once again patting him a little too enthusiastically on the arm. "Never fear, never fear! I still have something that will interest _you_, Phil!"

He reached into a large, brown suitcase that he carried and pulled out a flyer before handing it to Phil, who looked it over with confusion. "What..."

"_This_, my good sir, is something that _every_ man needs when they are approaching the big day in order to impress his bride to be!" Paul continued with a broad grin, gesturing eagerly to the flyer the other man held. "Because after all, first impressions _always_ matter!"

Phil slowly looked up at the salesman, not understanding what he was trying to say. "I'm not–!"

"When you want to announce to _all_ of your friends and family that _you_, Phil, have found the _perfect_ woman that you want to spend the rest of your life with, what is the _first _thing that you want to do?" Paul interrupted yet again, winding an arm around Phil's shoulders.

The officer tried to move away, but he was unfortunately kept in place. He opened his mouth to tell him to move, but Paul beat him to it. "That's right, my good sir! _Wedding invitations_!" Completely ignoring the utterly lost look on the other man's face, he kept going. "Now, I know what you're thinking because _everyone_ does. You're thinking, 'But, Paul, I can just go to the nearest store and buy my own invitations, and that'll be good enough.' _No_!"

Phil jumped slightly at his sudden raised, excited tone as Paul pointed at the flyer with added vigor. "Those _other_ wedding invitations couldn't _possibly_ compare to the fine ones that I can sell to you today. That's right! _Today_! And if you read what's on here, there are a _plethora_ of options that we can do to make your special day even _more_ special! We could specially engrave each and every one of them, silver-plate them, tie them neatly with delicate ribbons, or even add glitter to make them truly shine! As a bonus, I can also add in your own personal business card for you and your special woman for only a little extra. And there are plenty more options where those came from, my good sir! We can personalize them _any _way you wish!"

"Um, sounds great, but I'm..." Phil began, trying to hand the salesman the flyer back, but once again, he didn't get the chance to finish.

"Of course, my good sir, our _excellent_ service on these out of this _world _wedding invitations are gonna be a bit on the pricier side," Paul cautioned before a small smile returned to his face. "But, it'd all be worth it for the woman that means the world to you! And I'm gonna let you in on a little secret today, Phil. Since I came here _today_, I can give you a _ten percent_ discount! What do you say?"

Phil stared back at the other man for a long moment, once again almost at a complete loss for words. "I, uh, I don't..."

"_Heyman_!"

Paul let out a startled sound as he quickly turned around and let go of Phil as they both watched a clearly irate Chief of Police slam the driver's door of his car shut before he stormed up the driveway toward the front porch. "Da-Darren, my good man, it's go-good to see you again–!" he began with a slight laugh.

However, Darren clearly wasn't happy to see him as he stood on a confused Phil's other side. "How many times have I told you to stay the bloody hell away from my house, Heyman?!" he growled angrily, his eyes narrowed as he glared at the portlier man. "Now ge' your ass ou' of here before I file a warran' for your arrest for trespassing!"

The salesman lingered for another moment, only long enough to turn to the dark-haired officer and shake his hand once more with both of his. "Think about my offer," he muttered before he hurried down the porch steps and ran down the driveway to the old and battered car that was parked on the street in front of the house.

"W-who was that?" Phil stuttered as Paul sped off down the street, the sound of squealing tires following him.

Darren sighed heavily as he ran a stressed hand through his hair, shaking his head slightly as he watched the car until it was out of sight. "Tha', Phil, is Paul Heyman," he told him. "He is the biggest weasel of a salesman I've ever me' in my life. He once sold something to my neighbors, bu' they never go' wha' they ordered. When they tried to call him to complain, he only told them he didn' have any records of the sale, even though they had sent in their money. I doubt he even _has_ anything tha' he claims he has to sell. Bu' for some reason, he is _determined_ to sell me something. He's gone from vacuum cleaners, to jewelry for my wife, to sporting equipmen' for my sons, to fragran' soaps, to all-natural vitamins, to off-brand Girl Scout cookies. He even once gave me an offer to join some church I'm sure doesn' exist for a religious sector so my soul could be saved. For a hefty price, of course. He's hi' me with almost everything there is to sell ou' there."

The Chief chuckled quietly at the look of disbelief that crossed Phil's face. "Honestly, the only reason I haven' had him arrested ye' is because I find i' amusing tha' he plays this game with me, besides tha' I often have more important things to devote my resources to," he continued. "This has been going on for months. I'm sure he'll give up eventually." Then, he glanced down at the flyer the younger man still had in his hand. "Wha' is i' this time?"

"Oh, um... Here." Phil held out the flyer for the Englishman to take.

Darren briefly looked it over before a smile spread across his face. "Wedding invitations? _Now_ he's hi' me with almost everything there is to sell. I thought tha' it was going to be something like those new singing or light-up toothbrushes or whatever the bloody hell they are." He shrugged slightly as he tore the flyer unevenly in half. "Oh, well. I'm sorry tha' he tried to sell you something. No matter. Come on in, Phil."

Phil followed the older man inside the house, shutting the door behind him as Darren slipped his dress shoes off on the mat. "Is... is everything okay at the station?" he asked.

Sighing quietly, Darren glanced back at the officer as he made his way into the living room, Phil behind him. "I don' wan' you worrying too much abou' tha', lad," he answered quietly. "Bu' yes, things are fine. There are just a couple of windows tha' need to be replaced, which I filled ou' an order for."

"And... the shooting?" Phil hesitated for a moment. "Was... was it anyone that I know?"

Darren's gaze faltered. "No, Phil," he told him. "Bu' tha' is definitely something tha' I don' wan' you concerning yourself with.'

Phil gazed back at him for a moment, trying to figure out something more to say since there were more things he wanted answered, but before he could, they heard loud footsteps starting to trudge down the steps. They both glanced back into the entrance hall to see Bailey making his way into the living room, rubbing his tired eyes.

"Who was at the door?" he wondered, his voice still somewhat thick with sleep.

The dark-haired officer smiled slightly as he glanced at the Chief with a raised eyebrow, who chuckled. "Tha' was just our good friend, Paul Heyman," he said, reaching out and ruffling his dark hair. "Nothing to be concerned abou'."

Bailey nodded slightly, his gaze resting on the television screen when the baseball game came back from commercials. He watched for a moment before he looked up at Phil. "You like baseball?"

Phil nodded slightly as he glanced at the screen himself. "I do, yeah," he replied. "I guess it's something I've always liked, but I really don't remember too much of it aside from watching it wherever I was before this..."

An excited grin spread across the eighth-grader's face. "I play baseball during the summer!" he continued. "I'm on a local team! You should come to one of my games!"

Darren smiled. "Bailey, we'll have to see..." he began, but he stopped when Phil held up a brief hand.

"I'd like to come to one of your games, Bailey," he told him. "When is your first one?"

"Well, we don' have the full schedule ye'," Darren said, wrapping an arm lightly around Bailey's shoulders. "Bu' we would enjoy i' if you were to come to a game or two, Phil."

Phil nodded in return. Then, a small smile returned to his face when the eighth-grader reached out and touched his arm. "Yeah, Bailey?"

"I have a lot of baseball stuff up in my room," Bailey replied with a smile. "Do you wanna come see?"

The dark-haired officer glanced at Darren, who simply chuckled, before he turned back to Bailey. "Sure," he muttered. "I'd like to see it."

Bailey's smile lingered as he turned and hurried back up the staircase. Phil followed after him at a slower pace, resting his hand on the banister until he reached the second floor. He glanced at the doors on either side of him, not able to remember which room belonged to Darren's youngest boy.

Then, Bailey stuck his head out into the hall from a door on his left. "Over here, Phil!" he called him over cheerfully before he disappeared from sight again.

Phil sighed quietly to himself as he walked toward his room, a small smile appeared on his face as he stopped in the doorway. He instantly spotted Bailey standing in front of a desk that was sitting under the window near his bed, a grin on his face as he gestured to the wall next to him. Phil raised his hazel gaze to get a better look at the pictures that were hanging there along with the couple of trophies that were sitting on the shelf next to them.

"That's my team," the eighth-grader explained as he pointed to the photograph at the top. "I've been playing with them since I was in sixth grade. But when I start high school next year, I'm going to try out for the team there. With this team, I'm fourth in the batting rotation, and I play first base when we're in the outfield."

"That's really good, Bailey." Phil's smile lingered as his gaze moved from the team picture to the photos that were taken of Bailey during games to even articles about the team he was on from the _Chicago Tribune_. "What are these?" He pointed to the trophies that were sitting on the shelf next to them.

If possible, Bailey's smile grew wider as he looked up at them too. "Those are the trophies that we won over the past couple of seasons," he told him. "We won third place in the Chicago series my first season, and we won first last year. That big trophy is when we made it to the Midwest series last year, and we won third. And that one..." His sentence trailed off for a moment, and Phil could see the pride on his face. "That one is the MVP award I won last year!"

"That's impressive, Bailey." Phil chuckled. "Great job!"

"Thanks!" The eighth-grader then took hold of Phil's arm and lightly pulled him over to the desk he had previously been standing by. "This binder is full of baseball cards. I've been collecting them for as long as I can remember, ever since my mom took me and Dane to our first game at Wrigley Field. Dad and Daniel don't like it as much as we do."

Phil whistled quietly as he looked down at the thick binder that was worn along the edge, a picture of a much younger dark-haired Bailey sitting in the stands of a stadium he thought looked somewhat familiar along with sandy-haired Dane and black-haired Christina, all with the same broad smiles on their faces. The officer glanced down at Bailey, who nodded, before he reached out and carefully opened the binder. The collection started with the cards that were clearly older and continued on to more recent players. Phil sort of recognized some of the faces as he skimmed over the pages, the colors of their uniforms often blue and red, and he realized that this must have been his own favorite team.

"This is quite the collection, Bailey," he said, flipping through a couple more pages before he glanced down at the eighth-grader. "I don't remember if I had this many when I was your age, but I don't think I collect them anymore."

"That's a shame," Bailey replied. "You should start again. Here." He then reached out himself and flipped through the binder until he came to a page near the back. He studied the cards for a moment before pulling one out of its protective sleeve and held it out to Phil.

"This is a Sammy Sosa rookie card from years ago," Bailey continued. "I guess it's one that quite a few people want."

Phil took the card from Bailey's proffered hand to look it over better, but he shook his head and looked up at him as he tried to hand it back. "I can't take this from you," he muttered. "Especially if it's valuable in any way."

"Sure you can." Bailey closed the binder before he crossed his arms. "I want you to have it. From what I can see, you're a fan of the Cubs. I couldn't think of a better owner for that card."

Touched by the small gesture, Phil pulled his wallet out of his pocket. "Well, thank you very much, Bailey," he said. "I'm going to keep this in a special place. Right here." He opened his wallet and slid the card in the pocket right behind his police badge.

Grinning, Bailey turned back to the binder and opened it again, starting to go through it some more. Phil listened to facts about the players that he knew, but his focus wasn't entirely there. He sighed quietly to himself as the eighth-grader excitedly pointed out his favorite players, knowing that though it was fun and relaxing for him, where he should have been wasn't in Bailey's room. It shouldn't have even been in Darren's house.

Instead, he knew where he should have been was at the police station, helping to solve an investigation that he couldn't remember.

* * *

"So, ladies, if you ever want to get in touch, here's my card."

Matt rolled his eyes as he sat down on the stool next to Curt Hawkins, who had just finished pitching his indie record company to a couple of attractive blonde women, who were walking away from the bar and giggling to themselves. He had driven to the Fuze as soon as he had gotten off of work that night, having changed into a t-shirt and pair of jeans at the station first, since he was fully intent on speaking with Eve Torres. The case of Michael Brooks had been temporarily forgotten about by Cody, who was now more focused on making sure that Stu Bennett, who had just barely made it to the hospital, was being well cared for and trying to figure out who would want him dead. But if he could get any lead, even if it was just a small one, on the assault on his mentor, he would take it.

Curt turned to look at his best friend sitting beside him, arching an eyebrow as he pulled his blond hair back into a ponytail behind his head. "Man... it's not that I'm not happy to see you, because I am, I'm just not used to seeing you here on a Thursday night," he muttered. "You're kinda crimpin' my style, dude."

"Just pretend like I'm not here," Matt said quietly, his gaze moving around the crowded bar as he searched for the Latina.

Sighing, Curt shook his head slightly and turned back to the black-haired bartender, gesturing her over for another drink. "That's kinda hard to do, man, considering you are sitting where my... _potential clients_ typically sit..."

Not paying too much attention to the other man's indignation, Matt continued to scan the many faces around him for the one he wanted to see. Finally, he found her. He perked up slightly as he watched Eve walk into the bar dressed in her sport uniform, a purse over her shoulder and a lightweight hooded sweatshirt draped over her arm. "I'll see ya, Curt."

The indie record dealer looked away from where he had been sending flirtatious glances to the bartender as she prepared his drink, watching after the other man with confusion. "Hey, I didn't mean you had to leave... Where are ya going, Matt?"

But Matt didn't pay any attention to him, instead pushing his way through the crowd to where he had seen the Latina. "Eve!"

Surprised at the sudden sound of her name, Eve quickly looked up, a smile appearing on her face as she shifted her purse to a more comfortable position on her shoulder before resting her hands on her hips. "Oh, hey, rookie," she greeted. "I didn't expect to see you here tonight..."

However, Matt wasn't in the mood for pleasantries as he kept his face impassive. "Eve, we need to talk," he muttered.

Eve's smile slowly vanished, and she sighed quietly. "Uh, sure. I have a few minutes before I have to clock in. Follow me."

The rookie allowed her to walk past him before he began to follow her through the crowd. Eve glanced back at him a couple times just to make sure that he hadn't lost her amidst all the people, but each time, he was right with her. He had no intention of letting her out of his sight. When they passed Curt at the bar, who was now sipping on another drink, he chuckled and gave a knowing wink to his best friend.

"Ah, I see... Have fun, man!"

Matt ignored him completely while Eve rolled her eyes, and the Latina led him away from the bustling people and down a narrow hallway. She pulled a set of keys out of her purse and approached a door on the end, quickly unlocking it before pushing it open. Matt followed her inside, seeing it was a small room where the employees must have kept all of their personal items.

"So, if this is about that ticket that Phil wrote me, I promise I'll get it paid as soon as I can..." Eve began as she set her sweatshirt down on a couch that was against the opposite wall.

"No, it's not about the ticket," Matt told her quietly, closing the door behind him. He then turned to face the bartender with a sigh. "Do you know Michael Brooks?"

Eve looked back at him with confusion. "Um... I know _Phil_ Brooks..." she began quietly.

Matt shook his head somewhat impatiently. He was in no mood for games. "We have a witness who possibly placed you in the company of an arrested man," he continued. "Now, answer my question."

Surprisingly, a smirk appeared on Eve's face as she slid her purse back up to where it was resting comfortably on her shoulder before she took a couple steps forward so that she was standing directly in front of him. "So, what if I do know Michael?" she asked. "Last time I checked, it wasn't a crime to have friends, rookie."

The young officer sighed quietly. "I'm sorry, Eve, but this is an important investigation, and we need you to come down to the station to answer some questions," he muttered, glancing behind him for a brief moment when he heard loud voices from the hallway outside the room they were in. "We–!"

But then, Matt froze when he heard a quiet but familiar _click_, and he slowly looked up to see the barrel of a handgun was pointed directly at his temple. He looked past the metallic weapon, seeing that an almost sinister look had appeared on Eve's face as she kept the firearm level with him.

"Sorry, rookie, but I'm not going anywhere," she muttered, her smirk broadening. "You and your friend Officer Runnels are figuring out too much. Now it's time for _you_ to come with _me_."

**Author's Note**: Well, another cliffhanger, lol. These will also be somewhat more frequent in these last few chapters, haha. I think it's pretty easy to say that Eve's involved now, which just leaves one last person. That'll be covered soon ;) Thanks for reading! Your reviews are much appreciated. Thank you!


	29. Chapter 29

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing associated with the WWE. Just any OCs!

**Summary**: AU. "Never take anything for granted. For everything can be taken away in a heartbeat." When a brutal attack causes Phil Brooks to lose his memory, he struggles to not only piece his life back together and regain what was lost, but also to discover who still wants him dead.

**Author's Note**: Hey, sorry for the bit of a delay with this, guys! Things have been hectic with the end of the semester and everything, but we're a few chapters away from the end here! As always, keep an eye out for any final clues as we continue! Enjoy and happy hunting! :)

_Chapter 29_

"Anything from Cardona yet?" Cody asked, squinting slightly in the afternoon sun as he came to a stop at a red light.

A quiet sigh came from the other end of the line. _"No, not yet," _Adam answered. _"He hasn't come into the station. Now, I know that he's a rookie, but has he done something like this before?"_

"No," Cody muttered as he drove through the intersection. "When he was with Phil, he was always on time, sometimes early. He never just not showed up. I didn't hear from him last night either, though he mentioned something about some lead..."

_"Hmm." _Adam was quiet for a moment. _"That is unusual, then. I don't know why he wouldn't just be here..."_

Cody worried his bottom lip between his teeth thoughtfully for a moment as he glanced at the heavy traffic around him. "Well, I'll swing by his apartment after I check on Bennett at the hospital since I'm almost there now," he told him. "Hopefully we'll get this straightened out. I wanna just say that he overslept, but part of me's saying that's not the case."

Adam chuckled quietly. _"In my days as Chief, I had a couple officers who would oversleep quite a bit of the time," _he replied. _"But you're right. I don't think that's the case here. Let me know how things go with Bennett, and let me know if you get a hold of Cardona. Keep up the good work, kid."_

"Thanks, Adam. I will." Cody ended the call before he quickly started to go through his contacts until he reached Matt's name, quickly bringing the phone back to his ear.

Unfortunately, he wasn't met with the result he had hoped for.

_"Yo, this is Matt. I'm unable to come to the phone right now. Drop me a line, and I'll get back to you as soon as I'm available! Ladies, leave your name and number."_

"Hey, Matt, it's Cody," the officer said with a slight eyeroll after the _beep_ as he turned left into the crowded hospital parking lot once there was a break in traffic. "Just wondering if everything's okay. Call me back." He ended the call and tossed his phone into the passenger seat as he began to look for an open spot to park.

Finally, he found one near the middle of the lot after a couple left with their young child, and Cody grabbed his phone in case the rookie officer called back before he jogged up the sidewalk and through the automatic doors of the hospital. He was directed toward the right room by the nurse sitting behind the front desk and quickly made his way through the double doors that led to the back. The dark-haired officer quickly glanced at each room number as he passed them, sighing quietly as he rounded a corner.

However, he stopped when he nearly crashed into someone.

"Oh, sorry about that," Cody muttered with a quiet chuckle, quickly scanning over the startled woman's blond hair styled with a black under-layer. "You're... Jason Reso's intern, right?"

"Yep, that's right," the nurse confirmed with a smile. "Kaitlyn."

"Right." Cody returned the look. "Well, Kaitlyn, I was on my way to check on Stu Bennett. I'm going the right way, aren't I?"

Kaitlyn nodded in the affirmative. "Yeah, go down the hall here, turn left, and it'll be the first door on your right," she instructed, pointing in the general direction of where he needed to go. "I just checked on him this morning. He's a bit more stable than he was after the emergency surgery yesterday, which is encouraging. Though I have to warn you, he's in and out of consciousness, so in all good conscience, I can't allow you to give him a lengthy questioning. He's too weak. And also like your Chief requested, we do have a couple security guards stationed near his room to keep an eye on him."

Cody nodded in understanding. "It's okay, Kaitlyn, I won't," he assured her. "I just have one or two questions that I need to ask him, that's all."

For a moment, he wasn't sure if the intern would even let him do that as she lightly chewed on her bottom lip in an almost speculating way. But then, she sighed as she nodded. "Okay, make it as quick as you can."

A smile returned to the officer's face as he reached out and lightly patted her on the arm. "Thanks, Kaitlyn," he muttered. "See you around."

"See ya."

The smile lingered on Cody's face for a brief moment as he made his way down the hall in the direction of Stu's room, but his eyes narrowed slightly when he heard quiet laughter and voices from around the corner.

"So, how much do you wanna bet that Reso's intern is gonna fall for that Irish guy, Stephen? A lot of the chicks around here tend to be drawn to that accent of his..."

"Farrelley? Nah, I don't think he's her type. I saw her talking with the new intern from the college the other day. You know the guy. Johnny Curtis?"

There was a pause. "Ah, yeah, I know who you're talking about. The kid who likes listening to that shitty ballroom dance music that you can't get out of your head. Think Kaitlyn's into that? You really wanna bet Johnny's poor taste in tunes against Stephen's accent?"

There was another pause. "Five bucks."

A laugh that Cody recognized well from his days at the Academy pervaded the hall. "Five bucks? Really? You're _that_ certain she has a thing for Johnny? The guy's a prick."

There was a quiet laugh this time. "That's my offer, yeah."

"Hmm." Yet another pause. "You know what, now that I think about it, I'm changing my bet."

"You can't do that, Dean."

"I can too, Seth. You know why? Because I'm betting that _you_ have a thing for her."

There was a longer pause this time. "Me?"

"Yeah, you. I saw the way you were looking at her in the hall the other day. So, I'm betting you against Curtis."

"And I'm still going for Curtis. Five bucks."

A smirk appeared on Cody's face when he heard the long, drawn-out sigh. "I would, but that money's going toward my next pack of cigarettes. Speaking of which, I think I'm gonna step out for one if you wanna keep an eye on this guy."

"Still have that habit I see, Dean," the dark-haired officer said as he walked around the corner, an amused glint in his light gaze.

Dean Ambrose and Seth Rollins, two younger members of the hospital security staff, glanced over in his direction at the new voice, and a smirk appeared on the former's face. "What about it, Runnels?" he wondered as Cody drew closer.

Laughing quietly, Cody reached out and shook hands with both men who had been a couple of years behind him at the Police Academy. "Nothing at all," he defended himself with a smile. "I just remember you sitting outside with a cigarette in between lessons."

"Yeah, well, what can I say? I need my smoke break," Dean muttered. He then glanced at the door that he and Seth were standing in front of. "You here to see Bennett?"

Cody nodded in confirmation. "I just need to ask him a couple questions," he confirmed.

"Well, you get clearance, obviously," Dean told him, reaching into his pocket where his pack of cigarettes and lighter sat waiting for him. "I'm just gonna step out for a few minutes. Seth will catch you up to speed."

"There really isn't too much to catch you up on," Seth continued when Cody turned his attention to him while Dean began to make his way toward the nearest exit door. "Bennett's been in and out of consciousness since he's been here. And no one's tried to get into the room, so things have been quiet."

"That's good. After the scare with Phil's room, I was a little concerned," Cody replied.

"I don't blame you." Seth glanced through the narrow rectangular window at the room's occupant. "I think he's wakeful... You can go in, but I don't think any more than a couple minutes would be a good idea."

"Thanks, Seth, this won't take long." Cody reached out and quietly pushed open the door before he paused, glancing over at the younger man. "For the record, I think you should talk to Kaitlyn. She's a nice girl." He chuckled when Seth simply rolled his eyes before he stepped into the room, the smile vanishing from his face as he shut the door again behind him.

The only sounds in the room were the quiet _beeps_ and _hums_ of the heart monitor and the other machines that Stu was hooked up to that were keeping him alive, and he sighed as he slowly crossed the room to where the other dark-haired man was lying amidst the white sheets of the propped up bed. The Englishman had oxygen tubes in his nose to allow him to breathe, and Cody kept a close eye on the heart monitor for a moment and watched as the green lines remained somewhat steady.

At the sound of the door opening and closing and the following footsteps, Stu's eyes slowly fluttered open as he turned his head in the officer's direction with more effort than it should have required. It took a moment for his gaze to register who he was looking at, but when it did, most hints of weariness left his face.

"Hello, Mr. Bennett," Cody said quietly. "How are you feeling?"

Stu looked at him for a moment before he shrugged slightly, and Cody realized that speaking wasn't the easiest thing for the other man to do. He sighed in a thoughtful way before rephrasing his question. "Are you feeling any better?"

The only answer he got from Stu was a brief shake of his head.

"I'm sorry to hear that. But I'm glad that the surgery was a success and that you're in the right place. You had us concerned," Cody told him with a small smile. But then, the look slowly vanished. "Mr. Bennett, I have a couple of very important questions for you. May I ask them?"

A brief nod was the answer he received this time.

Feeling slightly encouraged, Cody took a step closer to the bed. "Mr. Bennett, did you see who fired shots at you at the station?" he asked.

His heart leapt when he got another brief nod as Stu's gaze darkened. "Do you know who he or she was?"

Another nod.

But then, Cody's heart fell slightly. With how weak Stu was, to get someone's name would also prove to be difficult. "I suppose you couldn't tell me who..."

Surprisingly, Stu weakly raised his hand and pointed at the officer's right pocket. Cody followed the gesture, confused for a moment, before he remembered what he kept there. He quickly pulled out the pocket notebook and pen that he carried on him, opening to a fresh page.

"Are you able to write, Mr. Bennett?" he wondered, his hope somewhat renewed.

The Englishman gave him yet another brief nod as determination appeared in his gaze, and Cody uncapped the pen and offered both items out to him. Stu set the notebook down on his lap before he took the pen, attempting to write the name of his assailant with his slightly shaking hand. The dark-haired officer watched him intently as the time seemed to pass by painstakingly slow while the other man struggled to write down a first and last name.

Finally, Stu set the pen aside, seeming to be exhausted just by the simple action, and offered the notebook back to him. Cody quickly took it, his blue-green eyes widening in horror when he was able to decipher the name written on the page.

* * *

Phil sighed quietly to himself as he set the book on Confederate policies during the Civil War back in its place on the bookshelf along with the other historical tomes that Daniel, Darren's oldest son, kept in his room before he sighed and sat down on the bed that had been prepared for him before he had even arrived at the house. He stared down at his heavily tattooed arms intently with his brow furrowed slightly, each stroke of ink writing a chapter of the story of his life that he felt like he had never read. He wondered what each one meant to him, what their significances were, and why he cared about these things so much that he would get them inked into his skin forever. The more he tried to think about it, the more frustrating it was since he had no way of knowing.

The dark-haired officer glanced over at the electric clock at the head of the bed, seeing that it was shortly after seven. He sighed as he rose to his feet, stretching slightly as me made his way toward the door. He was just so restless that he couldn't sit still any longer. With Bailey at an intramural baseball game, Dane studying for finals with some of his friends, and Christina attending a PTA meeting, there wasn't much that he could do to keep himself occupied, especially just sitting in a room on his own. He had to do something.

_He was sitting in the passenger side of a police car while the blond-haired man named Chris was sitting in the driver's seat beside him, both laughing while they sang along with the radio..._

_He was walking across the lobby of the police station with Chris, doing a quick, makeshift toast with the bottle of Pepsi that he had in his hand and the Mountain Dew the other officer held..._

_He was sitting on the sidewalk in front of the police station, his arms resting on his knees, with a despondent, uncertain look on his face as he stared blankly out at the cars in the parking lot in front of him until he finally looked up when Chris crouched down beside him and wrapped an encouraging arm around his shoulders..._

Phil paused about a third of the way down the stairs, leaning against the banister as a quiet, frustrated sound escaped from him, and he closed his eyes tightly and put his head in his hands as he slowly sank down onto the step above him. It wasn't the first time since he had arrived at the house where images similar to the ones he had just seen assaulted his mind, most of them revolving around the officer who had died that he was certain he had known. He thought back to what Layla said about Chris being an officer at the station the same time he was, which was how he knew him, but with everything that he had been seeing, he knew the other man had to have more significance to him than that.

Then, he slowly looked up when he heard quick footsteps from below him, and the officer watched as Darren hurried out of the kitchen from where he had been preparing dinner for when his family returned home, his water monitor draped lazily over his shoulders with her long tail wrapped around him. "Phil! Are you all right, lad?" he asked, a concerned look crossing his face as he hurried up to where the younger man was sitting.

"Yeah... I'm fine..." Phil answered halfheartedly as he lowered his hands. "Just fine..."

Darren sighed as he grabbed a secure hold of the banister and slowly lowered himself to sit a couple steps below Phil, watching as he reached out with a slightly shaking hand and ran it softly a couple times over the lizard's head. "Wha' happened, Phil?" he wondered quietly.

Phil sighed as he met the Chief's gaze, uncertainty in his eyes. "I... I keep seeing things..." he muttered.

"Like wha', Phil?" The Englishman was perturbed by this information, for he wasn't quite sure what to make of it. "Wha' are you seeing, lad?"

Surprisingly, a quiet chuckle escaped from Phil. "You make it sound like a bad thing," he told him, his small smile lingering. "I'm not seeing anything that's not there if that's what you're asking..."

Darren himself had a quiet laugh at that before he turned back to the other man. "Then wha' is i', Phil?"

The dark-haired man lowered his gaze to his tattooed hands for a moment before casting his hazel gaze back to the Chief. "Flickers," he explained quietly. "Things that may have happened before..."

"Memories?" Darren pressed. This had to be more encouraging than he had originally thought if he was starting to remember things.

Phil hesitated for a moment as he lowered his gaze. "It... it's possible," he said. "I'm just... not sure..." He sighed, briefly massaging his temples before he looked back at Darren. "Please... can you tell me who Chris was?"

Darren looked back at him for a moment with his jaw set into a hard line, unsure of what to say. "Are you seeing things tha' have to do with Chris?" he pressed. When Phil nodded, he sighed. "I suppose i' shouldn' surprise me... All right. Chris Irvine was one of the best officers I had who I had worked with even before I was elected to be Chief of Police after Adam was forced to retire. Since he was such a decorated officer, I wanted him to be my Assistan' Chief. Bu'... he was killed in the line of duty before he go' the chance."

"I was there... wasn't I?" Phil looked back at the older man expectantly.

The Chief's gaze faltered sadly. "Yes, lad," he replied quietly with a slight nod. "You and Chris responded to a robbery. Wha' none of us were aware of was tha' the robbers had guns. If we were, then maybe things would have gone differently..."

Phil sighed heavily, folding his hands tightly before he pressed them against his lips. "I remember that," he finally said, his gaze distant. "The house was dark... I went in first. The robbers were about to shoot me, but Chris ran in..."

_He quickly looked up at the two armed men, eyeing the firearm pointed at him nervously._

_Nearing footsteps reached his ears, and he looked away from the gun in time to see Chris run into the living room with a weapon of his own drawn before he stopped next to him._

_The sudden movement startled the robbers, and the taller of the two men moved the weapon in the direction of the other officer and fired. Chris' gun dropped from his hand as he fell to the floor..._

Darren looked back at the younger man with slightly narrowed eyes. "You remember tha'?" he repeated.

Phil nodded. "Yes," he muttered, moving his gaze to him. "And you and I went to talk to a woman... and three children..."

_Darren lowered his gaze to something he was holding, and he followed his gaze to see a neatly folded uniform and a badge in his hands._

_Tears quickly formed and fell from the blonde woman's eyes, and she leaned into Darren and sobbed when he pulled her securely into his arms._

_The three light-haired children sitting in the living room were looking at them with fear..._

"... and then we saw him... lying so lifeless in this... decorated box of some sort..."

_Darren tightened his hold on his shoulder before they both stepped up, and the dark-haired man's eyes widened when he found himself looking at the body of Chris. His eyes were closed and his complexion ashen._

_With a heavy sigh, he closed his eyes as he turned from Darren and the deceased Chris, slowly walking away without looking back..._

Darren's gaze saddened when he noticed the thin line of tears that had formed in the younger man's eyes. "Phil, why didn' you tell me abou' this before, lad?" he asked quietly, reaching up and setting a secure hand on his arm.

Phil slowly shook his head, attempting to force the burning tears back. "I... I didn't think it was important..." he answered, his tone trembling slightly. "I just thought... they were dreams that I had wherever I was before..."

Sighing, Darren tightened his hold on his arm slightly. "No, lad. Those things happened," he told him. "Is there anything else tha' you've seen tha' you're no' telling me?"

"Not too much. Just little flickers of things that I... I really can't make sense of," Phil admitted, still not able to look the Chief in the eye. He hesitated for a moment before he sighed. "Please... who was Chris to me?"

Darren took a long, deep breath before giving him a small but sad smile. "He was your mentor after you graduated from the Police Academy," he told him.

Phil looked at him for a long moment before nodding slightly. "That... that makes sense now..."

Since the younger man seemed to be taking this information better than he thought he would, the Englishman patted Phil on the arm before he released it. "I'm glad you finally told me abou' these memories you're having, lad," he said. "I' must make you feel better."

"A little." Phil raised his gaze to Darren's again. "Can I ask you a favor?"

Surprised, the Chief nodded. "Of course, Phil," he muttered. "Wha' is i'?"

The dark-haired officer sighed. "Can... can you bring me back to what you said was my apartment?" he asked. "I feel like there are some things that I want to get from there."

A small smile appeared on Darren's face. "Of course, lad," he answered. "Le' me just ge' this old girl back in her tank, and we can head over in a few minutes."

* * *

"So, have you ever had to, like, actually shoot anybody?"

Seth chuckled quietly at the question. "No, hospital security is usually pretty quiet," he answered. "The main thing besides keeping an eye on Bennett that they have me doing is looking into why more painkillers have been disappearing from storage. I don't think that Dean, or even Roman for that matter, has ever had to actually use his gun. Mainly, I just use it to threaten if necessary. Sometimes drunk people are brought into the ER late at night, and I've had to use it as intimidation to keep things under control a few times. Dean tends to have fun with that."

Kaitlyn laughed herself, quickly covering her mouth when a quiet snort escaped from her. She glanced at Seth with wide eyes, smiling when she saw the amused smirk that was on his face. "Man, that's tough, though. I'm not sure if I'd like to be a security guard at a hospital," she said.

"Dean and I make the most of it," Seth replied with a nonchalant shrug. He had been standing guard near Stu Bennett's room on his own since the other man had left for another smoke break, and he certainly hadn't expected the intern to show up and try to start a conversation with him on her break. "But that's why you're here on the medical side of things, I assume."

"Yeah, my dad's a paramedic," Kaitlyn told him, brushing a couple loose strands of her blonde hair that had fallen loose from her ponytail out of her face. "I've wanted to be like him ever since I was a little girl since he was always saving lives and being the hero. I'm just glad that I got accepted into medical school and am now able to intern for someone like Jay, someone who my dad's worked with before."

Seth nodded slightly. "Well, good, I'm glad that you're able to do that then," he muttered.

Kaitlyn smiled before she rolled her eyes. "I just can't believe that Johnny got put in the same hospital I did."

Intrigued, Seth raised an eyebrow. "You mean that Curtis guy?" he wondered.

"The one and only." Kaitlyn sighed with aggravation. "Okay, so, we dated for maybe like a semester in our first year of medical school, right? But the guy is _such _a prick! He's so full of himself. And he always tried to get me to listen to that crappy ballroom dance music that I can never get out of my head... But anyway, ever since he was transferred here, he's been trying to get back together with me, and it's _so_ annoying..."

Seth chuckled and shook his head slightly, remembering Dean had said similar things while talking about Johnny Curtis. But he also wasn't too interested in exchanging gossip. That had never been his thing. "So, is that the only reason you're talking to me right now?" he posed, his smile lingering. "To see if I can try to intimidate Curtis to get off your back?"

Kaitlyn looked at him with wide eyes. "No, not at all!" she protested. "I mean, that would make me a shallow person too, if you think about it. I've just seen you around, and you looked bored, so I thought I'd come talk to you." She paused for a moment, almost thoughtfully. "... You could do that?"

"I knew it." Seth smirked at her, an amused glint in his eyes. "Well, just let me know if he bothers you too much anymore, and I'll see what I can do."

A wide grin spread across Kaitlyn's face. "Thank you! Oh, my God, you're a lifesaver!" An amused look appeared in her own gaze then. "You know, I've always liked a man in uniform."

Seth laughed a little, but before he could say anything, the sound of approaching footsteps reached his ears. "That's probably Dean." He and Kaitlyn both turned their attention to the adjacent hall where the sound was coming from, but as it grew louder, the security guard narrowed his eyes slightly when the footsteps sounded uneven, almost as if the person had a limp.

Then, someone walked around the corner, and it certainly wasn't Dean. A man wearing a black sweatshirt with a hood over his head to conceal his features appeared in the hallway, his attention seemingly on the door of Stu Bennett's room. He was walking with a slight limp in his left leg.

Kaitlyn took a step behind Seth as he began to reach for the gun on his belt, his intense gaze never leaving the hooded figure. "Who are you?" he demanded.

However, the man simply turned his head to look directly at the security guard and intern, a quiet laugh that sounded like it was distorted electronically escaping from him before he turned and made his way back down the hallway that he had come from, the sound of his footsteps slowly fading away.

* * *

_"Yo, this is Matt. I'm unable to come to the phone right now. Drop me a line, and I'll get back to you as soon as I'm available! Ladies, leave your name and number."_

Barbara sighed as she flipped her cell phone shut when she was greeted with Matt's voicemail yet again, casting her gaze to the clock that was hanging above her bed and seeing that it was almost eight. The rookie officer had said he would pick her up or at least call her after he got off duty and be by her place at seven-thirty at the latest. And now, she couldn't even reach him.

She tossed the phone down on the mattress before she turned her attention to the full-length mirror she kept in her room, her gaze traveling from her orange off-the-shoulder t-shirt to the pair of styled skinny jeans she wore. For the first time she could remember in a long time, she admitted that to her, she looked good. Seeing the nutritionist at the hospital was doing wonders for her.

As she gazed at the eyeliner and sparkle eyeshadow that she had earlier applied, Barbara couldn't help but remember when the blond-haired man she couldn't deny she had been attracted to had forced her to look into that very same mirror and look at herself, to see the beauty that he supposedly saw in her. It had been helpful, she reasoned, and a step in the right direction to lead her toward a healthier lifestyle. She briefly thought of the kiss she had shared with him, to when he had visited her in the hospital, and shook her head. There had never been anything serious between them, she knew, and he had been nothing more than a sort of guardian who had watched out for her and offered a kind word and a guiding hand. She hadn't seen him since she had been released from the hospital, but he had been what she had needed at the time.

But then, Barbara's mind wandered to Matt, who she had always noticed seemed to be shy around her. She remembered the flower he had given her when he visited her at the hospital, the support he offered her when he knew what she was going through, and the date he had so nervously asked her out on. She had begun to think that she could have something with the rookie officer, but now, he was standing her up.

Sighing once more, the night dispatcher sat down on the edge of her bed, debating for a moment about what to do. She then reached out and picked up her cell phone, flipping it open before she began to scroll through her contacts to get to Matt's number. She would give him another chance.

* * *

Scott drummed his fingers against the steering wheel impatiently at an intersection, waiting for the light to change. The sounds and lights from Dead Man's Tavern breached his senses, but he continued to try to ignore them. He had called Lynne right after he got off his shift at the station to check on Phil since he was out of the hospital, and the other officer's mother had told him that he was staying at Darren's house. After swinging by and seeing that no one was home, there was only one other place he thought his best friend could be at, which would be his apartment. He just had to talk to him, even if it was just for a short time.

Finally, the light changed from red to green, which was the most welcome sight in the world to Scott. He drove through the intersection, his hands clenching around the wheel almost nervously as he made his way toward Phil's apartment.

**Author's Note**: All righty, that's it for that one! Any clues spotted, feel free to leave them in your reviews! As a fun side note, the part with Dean and Seth taking bets was loosely based on a personal experience being in the hospital in the middle of the night where security guards were doing the same sort of thing. So, yeah, lol! Thanks for reading, guys! Your reviews are much appreciated. Thank you!


	30. Chapter 30

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing associated with the WWE. Just any OCs!

**Summary**: AU. "Never take anything for granted. For everything can be taken away in a heartbeat." When a brutal attack causes Phil Brooks to lose his memory, he struggles to not only piece his life back together and regain what was lost, but also to discover who still wants him dead.

**Author's Note**: Sorry about the delay with this chapter! It took quite a while to finish because this is like that crucial chapter where everything goes on and starts to be explained, lol. But, it's a long one, so hopefully that makes up for it! We're a couple chapters away from the end, so things will definitely pick up. Hope you enjoy!

_Chapter 30_

Phil looked up at the apartment building that loomed tall above him against the night sky while Darren found a spot to park in the lot. The Chief shut the car off and glanced over at the other officer, giving him a slight nod. The dark-haired man slowly stepped out of the car, following Darren as he crossed the crowded parking lot to the brightly lit front door of the complex. After punching in the four digit code on the keypad to let them in, the Englishman led the way up a couple flights of stairs to the third floor before coming to a stop in front of the door of the apartment that belonged to Phil.

"Now, this was the se' of keys tha' have been on you since you arrived a' my house," Darren explained as he pulled them out of the pocket of his black dress pants. "I don' exactly remember which one goes with this lock from last time we were here, so i' will be trial and error, I'm afraid." He chuckled quietly as he began to test each key to see if it fit.

The younger officer watched as the Chief tried a couple keys before he finally found the correct one and pushed open the door. He then stepped into the dark apartment first, running his hand along the wall until his grasping fingers found the light switch and filled the living room with light. Darren stepped in behind him with a small smile on his face.

"Take your time, Phil," he told him quietly. "We don' have to rush to find wha' you need."

Phil nodded as his hazel eyes began to scan the living room of his apartment, wondering what he had felt he needed to come here to get so badly. His gaze passed over a nearly completed house of cards in the corner next to the television to a few brightly colored comic books stacked on the end table beside the couch to three framed photographs that were sitting on the low table in front of it.

"What's over there again?" he suddenly wondered, glancing back at Darren as he pointed to the hallway that led out of the living room.

"Around the corner there is the kitchen, and down tha' hall is the bathroom and your bedroom," Darren told him, watching the officer closely.

"Oh." Phil sighed quietly as he started to look around the living room again, his gaze drawn once again to the three photographs that sat on the low table in front of the television. "Thanks..."

Darren nodded slightly. "You're welcome," he muttered. Then, he quickly pulled his cell phone out of his pocket when it began to ring, a sound which startled the younger man, and answered it when he saw the name flashing on the screen. "Yes, Cody?" His eyes narrowed a bit as he listened to what was being said on the other end for a long moment before he shook his head a bit. "Cody, slow down... Hold on, you're breaking up, lad..."

The Chief glanced over at Phil. "I'm going to step ou' into the hall for a moment," he said. "Will you be all right here?"

Phil nodded in silent answer, and Darren turned his attention back to the conversation with the other officer as he opened the door of the apartment and stepped out into the hall. "All right, wha' abou' Benne'?"

Sighing since he now found himself alone in the apartment that he was told he lived in, Phil continued to look around at the living room that was supposed to be his before he slowly walked forward and sat on the couch, leaning forward on his knees to look at the three photographs that sat on the low table in front of him. He slowly, almost hesitantly reached out and picked up the first framed one and brought it closer to see it better.

He was standing with three men he didn't recognize in what appeared to be a crowded, brightly lit room, all with broad smiles on their faces. The one on the left had brown hair that was somewhat spiked in the front. He recognized himself to be next, his short black hair slicked back. The man next to him had brown hair like the first along with a large, full beard, and the man on the far right had long black hair that was tied back behind his head.

Phil set the picture aside before picking up the next one, seeing that there were only two people smiling back at him from behind the protective frame. The man on the left was a bit taller than the one on the right, who he once again recognized to be himself. This man he also didn't recognize, but he had a wide, almost goofy grin on his face as he held up some sort of official looking paper and a badge he now knew belonged to the Chicago police force. The dark-haired officer's eyes wandered to himself, who appeared younger, his black hair now chin-length and pulled back away from his face to reveal the piercings in his ears. But the other thing he noticed was the pride reflected in the smile on his face.

Not knowing what significance was behind the event of that photograph, Phil set that one aside too before he lifted the last one, and his hazel eyes widened. He recognized both people in this photograph, especially since one of them was once again himself. He was around the same age as in the last picture with his dark hair in a small ponytail and a small smirk turning up the corner of his lips. Next to him was the blond-haired officer that he now knew was his former mentor on the police force. Chris. His gaze faltered slightly as a feeling of dread formed in the pit of his stomach as his uncertain eyes traveled over the older man's broad smile, a feeling he could not explain.

Then, there was a quiet knock at his door. Phil quickly glanced over his shoulder at the sudden sound, and he took a deep breath as he hurriedly set the photograph back in its place on the low table and got to his feet. Expecting to see the Englishman on the other side, he crossed the room and opened the door, but his hazel eyes narrowed in confusion when he saw someone else entirely.

"Can... can I help you?" he asked, his gaze passing over the other man's dark hair, the black baseball cap he wore backwards, the light blue t-shirt he wore, and his faded jeans.

The other man looked back at him with an almost sad look crossing his face as a sigh escaped from him. "I just... I just wanted to see how you were doing, Phil," he answered quietly.

The dark-haired officer took a small step back, his eyes never leaving the visitor. "Fine," he muttered, still uncertain. "And... who are you?"

The other man lowered his gaze for a moment before he looked Phil in the eye. "I'm Scott," he told him. "Your... your best friend. We grew up together."

Phil gazed at him for a moment longer before he shook his head slightly and backed away from the door, slowly making his way back toward the couch. His eyes landed on the three photographs he had previously been looking at, noticing the man who was visiting him was smiling back at him from one of them.

Scott hesitantly followed him into the apartment, slowly walking around the couch so that he was standing near the officer. "You... you don't remember me?" he wondered. "At all?"

A long moment passed where a distressed look crossed Phil's face as he tightly closed his eyes before he sighed in what sounded like defeat and shook his head slightly. "N-no..." he said in a voice hardly above a whisper, his tone faltering slightly. "No..."

"Nothing?" Scott pressed as he took a small step closer. "I mean, we've been through so much together, man. I'm the one who found you after what happened and brought you to the hospital... I... I thought I had lost you..."

However, once again, Phil just shook his head in response. He didn't know anything about what the other man was talking about. "I'm sorry, okay?" he told him, frustration entering his tone. "It's not like I don't want to remember... I'm trying my hardest, I really am. But I just... I can't..."

Scott stared back at him for a long moment, his stomach plummeting as he lowered his gaze. He remembered back to the night where he had found Phil lying on the sidewalk near Dead Man's Tavern, seemingly lifeless. It had been one of the scariest moments of his life since he thought that he had lost his best friend.

But now, even as he spoke to him, he realized that whoever was responsible for the assault had still taken Phil from him if he couldn't remember anything. This was not the man he had grown up with.

Thinking quickly, Scott reached down and picked up the photograph of him and Phil from the day that he had graduated from the Chicago Police Academy and held it out toward the other man. "See? Look at this, Phil," he said, pointing to their smiling faces. "This was a very important day for me."

Phil gazed at the picture again, his eyes traveling over the man named Scott's broad, goofy grin to his much smaller but proud smile before he sighed. They both appeared cheerful, but about what, he couldn't say. "I... I don't remember..."

Sighing, Scott pointed at it again. "You were already a part of the Chicago police force," he explained. "This was the day I graduated, and everyone was there..." He paused for a moment, a thin line of tears appearing in his eyes. "It was you who made me want to join the force, Phil. We had always played cop games and stuff like that as kids, and we considered going to the Academy while we were in high school. You graduated early and took the first step since you enrolled right away. I waited for a bit, but I still went through with it, and I was assigned as your first rookie. It's what we've always wanted to do, and–!"

"I _don't _remember!"

Scott's eyes widened when Phil's tattooed arms suddenly lurched out and connected with him, shoving him backwards. He stumbled back, nearly tripping when his leg connected with the low table sitting in front of the couch, causing the photograph to drop from his hand as he bumped the table beside the television behind him. The younger man quickly looked over his shoulder, watching as the house of cards that he and the other officer hadn't had the chance to complete crumbled to the floor before he turned back to the low table in front of him when he heard the sound of glass shattering. His gaze faltered when he saw that the picture of him and Phil on his graduation day had connected with the edge of the table, causing the protective glass of the frame to severely crack. The force of him bumping it also caused the picture of Phil and Chris to fall forward, hiding the image from view.

Then, Scott slowly turned his gaze to Phil, who had sunk down onto the couch after the forceful push with his head in his hands. A long moment passed before he slowly raised his gaze and looked up at the younger man, tears in his own eyes. "I... I'm sorry," he murmured, folding his hands tightly and pressing them against his lips. "I... I didn't mean to... to do that... It's just..." His sentence trailed off with a sigh, and he ran his hands over his face as he lowered his head again.

"It... it's okay, Phil," Scott replied hesitantly. "I shouldn't have tried to get you to... remember..." He took a deep breath. "Do you want me to help you pick up all this?" He gestured to the scattered cards and the broken glass.

Not too surprising, the only answer he received from Phil was a brief shake of his head.

"O-okay... I'll just... go then..." When he got no response from Phil, either in the affirmative or an objection, Scott lowered his gaze for a moment before he slowly made his way across the living room.

Phil waited until he heard the soft sound of the apartment door opening and closing before he slowly raised his gaze, sighing as he wiped away the single stray tear that had made its way down his cheek. He looked around, ensuring that he was once again alone before he slowly crouched down in front of the couch, his gaze moving from the small shards of glass that littered his carpet to the cards that were strewn all over the floor. Deciding that those would be easier to clean up, the dark-haired officer began to push himself back to a standing position, but he paused with a hiss of pain when something sharp pricked his palm. He quickly looked down at his hand, brushing away a couple glass splinters as a small speck of blood appeared near the center of his hand.

Then, he heard the door of his apartment open once more. "Darren?" Phil called out, again expecting the Chief to have returned from his phone call.

But he got no answer aside from quiet footsteps making their way closer. Letting out a quiet, aggravated breath, Phil set his hand on the couch this time to push himself to his feet. "Look, Sc... Scott. I'm sorry about what happened and that I can't remember what you're talking about, but–!"

However, the officer's sentence abruptly cut off when he straightened up and turned around, for he wasn't met with the dark-haired man that he had expected to see. Instead, he was facing a man with dark blond hair that was styled to the side, a small smile on his face as his blue eyes gleamed. He was wearing a simple pair of jeans and a black hooded sweatshirt, and Phil caught a glimpse of what appeared to be a tattoo on his hand before he crossed his arms.

But what really caught his attention was the new arrival's face. He knew it, that much was certain. But from where, he wasn't quite able to grasp other than it was very familiar to him.

"What... what are you doing here?" he asked quietly.

The blond man shrugged slightly as he uncrossed his arms and stuck his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt. "I just wanted to see how you were doing, Phil," he answered before a slight smirk appeared at the corner of his lips. "At least, that's what I think your best friend Scott said when he stopped by here a few minutes ago, am I right?"

Phil felt slightly unnerved as the other man nodded slightly while he looked around the living room. "Nice place you've got here," he continued. "Though it's smaller than that studio apartment I remember you used to have with that Colton kid back when you guys were roommates. But it still has a homey feel to it. Too bad you sent him away, though. He may have enjoyed this conversation..."

The man's eyes were then drawn to the small table that the officer was standing near. "Wow, would you look at what happened here?" He slowly made his way around the couch, and Phil noticed that he had a slight limp in his left leg as he stopped in front of the table, bending over to get a look at the mess that surrounded the three photographs. He picked up the first one of Phil and the three other men, briefly nodding and setting it aside before he lifted the one of Phil and Chris so that it was standing upright again. He gazed at that picture for a long moment, his eyes moving over the dark-haired officer's smirk and the other man's bright smile before he picked up the third one of Phil and Scott from the floor, carefully brushing away some of the loose shards of glass from the cracked frame before setting it back on the table where it belonged.

"You've got some nice pictures here, kid. Don't want anything more to happen to these."

Phil gazed at the new arrival for a long moment, his mind frantically attempting to grasp where he had seen him before. He was so familiar... "Who... who are you?" he asked quietly.

The other man moved his gaze away from the photographs, another slight smirk appearing on his face when he saw the confusion in the officer's hazel eyes. "You know me, don't you?" he wondered, his voice low. "You know who I am. You know my face, and you even know my name. Don't you?"

The dark-haired officer watched the other man uncertainly as he straightened up and turned toward him. "I... I don't know what... what you mean..." he began uncertainly.

"Sure you do, Phil." The blond-haired man took a couple steps closer, his step only slightly hindered by the limp he had, and stopped in front of him, his smirk broadening when he saw Phil's gaze falter. "I know you do. I can tell by how you're looking at me right now. My face, my name... You know exactly who I am."

When Phil didn't have anything to say in response, the new arrival decided to continue. "How about I let you in on a little secret that might help ya out since I'm a nice guy? There was a night six years ago that you can't stop thinking about, isn't there, Phil? Even if you don't know what it is, it's on your mind. You even feel a little guilty, don't you? You feel a little guilty because of what happened to the man who was in that house with you."

Phil looked back at him, his eyes narrowing slightly. He remembered the dark house from his dreams, the officer who had been his former mentor who had been shot, his grieving wife, and the funeral clearly. "How... how do you know about that?" he wondered. "How do you know about that night?"

The other man chuckled quietly. "It's pretty obvious. And why I know about that night is simple. Very simple, actually." He paused for a moment, his light eyes gleaming. "You want to know about that night, kid? I can tell you if you want. I can give you the answers to questions you may not even know you have."

However, Phil just shook his head slightly. He was really starting to feel uneasy around this man, a feeling he couldn't explain since he knew he was right and that he _did_ know him. "I... I'm going to go find Darren," he muttered, turning to make his way to the door. But he stopped when a hand landed on his shoulder from behind.

"Darren will be back in a few minutes, Phil. You'll be okay," the blond-haired man told him. "Besides, there's only one thing I really want to tell you anyway."

Phil glanced over his shoulder somewhat nervously, watching as he took a small step closer so that he was close to his ear. "What happened that night wasn't your mistake, kid," the other man murmured, his smirk returning. "It was mine."

* * *

Scott took a deep breath as he made his way down the hallway away from Phil's apartment, forcing the remainder of his tears back. He didn't know what he had expected from his visit with the other man, but what he hadn't anticipated was the way it had ended. He hadn't intended to try to push Phil to remember things because he hadn't wanted to overwhelm him, but with how he had been so afraid of losing his best friend, he had just wanted some hint or some sign of the man he knew again.

But it appeared that wouldn't be the case.

He was so lost in his racing thoughts that he didn't hear the footsteps coming from the adjacent hall, and he walked into someone as he went around the corner to make his way down the stairs to leave the apartment complex. Scott quickly looked up, startled, but he sighed quietly with relief when he saw Darren looking back at him with an equally surprised expression on his face.

"Oh, Chief, I didn't expect to see you here..."

"It's all right, Sco'," Darren muttered as he reached out and patted the younger man on the shoulder. "I should have been watching where I was going as well..."

Scott's eyes narrowed a bit, however, when he looked back at the Englishman and noticed the clear worry and distress that he couldn't hide. "Are you okay, Chief?" he asked.

Darren met his gaze once more, appearing as though he was about to nod before he sighed instead. "No' really, lad," he said truthfully.

"What's going on?" Scott pressed. "I'll help in any way I can. Well... as much as I can without my gun."

The Chief's eyes narrowed with confusion. "Why don' you have your gun?" he wondered.

Scott sighed. "Well, I'm technically off my suspension, but Adam didn't feel like I should have it in my possession yet," he explained.

"I forgo' tha' you had been suspended..." Darren passed a stressed hand over his face. "Bu' you should have your gun back now. I'll take care of tha' when I ge' back to the station. We'll ge' you re-qualified."

A look of relief passed over Scott's face as he smiled slightly. "Thanks, Chief."

Darren simply nodded before he worried his bottom lip between his teeth. "As for wha' is going on, you are aware of the shooting a' the station, correct?"

"Uh, yeah, the one that Bennett guy was involved with, right?" When Darren nodded in confirmation, Scott continued, "What about it?"

The Chief took a deep breath. "Well, Cody just recently informed me tha' Benne' was able to identify who sho' him," he muttered.

Scott's eyes widened. "Really? Who was it, Chief?" he asked.

Darren's gaze faltered, and the younger man felt his stomach drop. "Chief? Who was it?"

Before the Englishman could say anything, the loud sound of glass shattering came from around the corner. Glancing at the other officer, Darren led the way to the adjacent hall, seeing that it was empty and nothing seemed to be out of order. However, he was suddenly fueled by a feeling of dread when he saw that the door of Phil's apartment was now open, and he hurried forward as quickly as he could before coming to a stop in the doorway. His eyes widened slightly when he saw the cards that were spread all over the floor and the broken glass in the carpet. The dark-haired officer was nowhere to be seen.

"Phil!" Darren called before he stepped into the living room, quickly checking the dark kitchen, bathroom, and bedroom to look for the younger man.

"He couldn't have left the complex," Scott said thoughtfully, mainly to himself. "We were standing by the stairs to the entrance, and I didn't hear the elevator..."

Then, his eyes widened fearfully when he saw that the window behind the table where the house of cards had once been was almost completely broken. "Darren!" he yelled anxiously as he crossed the room as quickly as he could and looked out into the night.

Darren hurried back into the living room, clear worry on his face. "Wha' is i', lad?" he wondered.

Scott, however, didn't pay much attention as he broke a few remaining larger shards that were in the window frame, sticking his upper body out into the cool air to get a better look around. The black metal steps of the fire escape were directly outside the window, leading down to the parking lot behind the building and the dumpster three floors below. Then, sudden motion caught his eye, and he saw who he recognized to be Phil being forced into the backseat of a dark Chevy Malibu before a blond-haired man hurried around to the driver's seat, his step hindered slightly by a limp in his left leg.

"_Phil_!" Scott quickly climbed through the window and winced when he landed hard on the fire escape before he began to quickly scale down the winding steps. He heard Darren call his name from the window above him, but he didn't stop, his eyes remaining on the Malibu as it started. The officer sped his pace slightly until he came to the bottom of the staircase, and he took a deep breath before he jumped down onto the dumpster beneath him. The force launched him forward, and he rolled on the hard asphalt below to catch his fall, but he knew he was too late when he heard the sound of squealing tires. Scott looked up, only able to watch as the Malibu, which he recognized the license plate of, that now carried his best friend sped away.

* * *

Cody took a deep breath as he glanced around the living room he was sitting in, wringing his hands together somewhat nervously. His blue-green eyes scanned over the wedding photographs, pictures of the newborn children, and photographs from the graduation from the Police Academy that hung on his friend's walls before he lowered his gaze, wishing that he could have been there for not such a grim reason. He was dressed casually since was was officially off duty, but he knew he couldn't have waited any longer to talk to the other man.

Then, he slowly looked up again when he heard footsteps coming down the staircase from the nearby hallway, watching as Nick entered the living room with a sigh. "All right, now that the boys are in bed, what's going on?" he wondered, stretching slightly as he sat down on the couch next to his partner on the force.

A long moment passed before Cody sighed and ran a stressed hand over his face. He felt Nick's eyes on him with concern before he looked back at the other man. "I'm really starting to wish that you weren't on paternity leave," he muttered with a quiet chuckle.

Nick leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on his knees. "What's going on, man?" he repeated quietly. "I mean, I can obviously tell that things aren't going so well since you're here..."

Cody shook his head slightly. "That's putting it lightly," he said. "I mean, I think the one good thing is that Phil's out of the hospital and is staying with Darren."

"Yeah, I heard about that through the grapevine," Nick replied with a small smile. "How is Phil? Any improvement with his memory or anything?"

"Not really," Cody told him. "I mean, he knows Darren obviously. He's also getting familiar with his family. He knows Lynne. But that's really about it."

Nick's smile broadened slightly. "Hey, that's encouraging, right?" But when he didn't get the response that he was hoping for, the look waned. "Right?"

Cody sighed. "Yeah, that's encouraging," he agreed quietly. "It's just... everything else..."

"Like?" Nick prompted, crossing his arms and leaning back against the couch. "I heard something about a shooting at the station?"

"Yep," Cody confirmed. "Michael Brooks still isn't very cooperative when it comes to the assault on Phil. I'm almost starting to wonder if he really was a part of it at all... But Stu Bennett, who works at Dead Man's Tavern, was able to identify him as the owner of that stupid Malibu, and there were two other people with him. Basically, everything that we already knew. Though Matt–!"

Nick arched an eyebrow when he saw his partner suddenly stop speaking and quickly pull his phone out of his pocket, shaking his head slightly before slipping it back. "Is something wrong with Matt?" he wondered.

"He didn't come into the station at all today," Cody explained with a sigh. "And no one's been able to reach him. I'm starting to get a bit concerned, so I'll swing by his apartment on my way home. It's not like him." He paused for a moment. "But yesterday before the shooting, he said something that made me think he knew something about one of the two people associated with Brooks. It's something I need to look into..."

"Yeah, that's definitely unusual for the kid..." Nick muttered, a thoughtful look passing over his face. "But hopefully the two people associated with Brooks can give you some sort of lead. If I remember correctly, Bennett was the one shot at the station, right?"

Cody nodded. "Fortunately, he'll be okay. I visited him this afternoon. He... he gave me the name of the man who shot him."

Nick's eyes narrowed slightly as he looked back at the other man. "And... who was it?" he pressed. "Someone involved with this case already, or don't you know?"

However, Cody's gaze faltered as he lowered it. "I... I spent the rest of the day at the station," he told him quietly. "I looked through old case files, trying to find... some sort of explanation, but... I don't know how..."

The blond officer worried his bottom lip between his teeth as he straightened up again, gazing at his partner nervously. "You okay, man?" he asked with a quiet chuckle. "You look like you've seen a ghost or something."

Cody slowly looked up and uncertainly met his gaze, and Nick felt his stomach plummet. He had just been trying to make light of the situation, but the look on the other man's face made him slightly nervous.

"Hey, Cody, I was joking..."

Before the other officer could say anything more, the sound of Cody's cell phone ringing caused him to quickly pull it back out of his pocket. He was slightly disappointed to see that it wasn't Matt returning his call, but seeing that it was Darren calling, he quickly answered. "Yeah, Chief?" he said, glancing at Nick, who was anxiously waiting for any news from the Englishman.

_"Cody, I need you to mee' me a' the station. Now."_

A bit unnerved by the older man's anxious tone, Cody nodded slightly even though he knew the action wouldn't be seen. "Sure, Chief, what's going on?"

There was a short moment of silence from the other end where the dark-haired officer could hear the tell-tale sounds of traffic in the background, knowing that he must have already been on his way there. _"We have an emergency situation," _Darren explained. _"Tha' Chevy Malibu you have been tracking was a' Phil's apartmen' tonight."_

Cody's eyes narrowed. "But Bennett's in the hospital, and Brooks is secured at the station," he muttered.

_"I know." _Darren sighed. _"The most I can tell you is tha' the man driving i' had blond hair."_

"Bennett said that there was a blond man associated with Brooks..." Cody's sentence trailed off, and his stomach plummeted when he thought about the call he had made to Darren after he had visited Stu in the hospital to tell the Englishman the name he had given him. He could feel Nick's eyes on him intently, but he ignored the look as he continued, his tone cracking slightly. "Chief... you don't think that it really could be... could be him... do you?"

The longer moment of silence on the other end hadn't been the response he had been hoping for. _"A' this time... I really don' know wha' I can tell you, Cody," _Darren finally murmured. _"I don' know the answer to tha' myself. Bu' whatever the case may be, whoever was driving tha' car took Phil."_

Cody's eyes widened in horror. "What? Why?"

_"I don' know," _Darren told him. _"Bu' I need you to–!"_

"You need me to do what, Chief?" Cody pressed, glancing over at Nick.

_"Sorry, Cody, I have another line I need to take," _Darren said quickly. _"Just mee' me a' the station, all right?"_

"Chief–!" Cody began, but he was cut off when the line went dead.

* * *

"Sorry, Cody, I have another line I need to take," Darren said quickly. "Just mee' me a' the station, all right?"

_"Chief–!"_

He heard the younger officer begin to protest, but the Englishman quickly switched the line over to the incoming call. "Chief Matthews," he said, but he was only met with a long moment of silence on the other end. He quickly checked the number on the screen, his eyes narrowing slightly when it was one he didn't recognize.

Then, Darren's hand tightened around the wheel when he heard a quiet laugh from the other end. _"Hello, Darren. Good to speak with you again. It's been a while."_

The Chief nearly slammed on the brakes at the response as he grasped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

He would know that voice anywhere.

* * *

Scott pulled his car to a stop in front of the police station, not minding that he was crooked in what didn't even count as a parking spot, before he shut it off and ran through the automatic doors as quickly as he could. He had to find out where Phil was being taken.

Layla, who was filling in for Barbara that night, looked up, startled when he nearly crashed into the front desk in his haste. "Whoa, Scott, what–!"

"Where's Adam?" Scott interrupted quickly, his breathing somewhat ragged.

Layla sighed as she glanced at her computer screen. "He's getting a group together since he got a call from Darren a little while ago," she said. "He'll be–!"

However, she was once again cut off when the dark-haired officer suddenly ran toward the door that led to the back offices, and she quickly got to her feet. "_Scott_!"

Scott didn't even hear her as he pushed his way past a couple of the new rookies that were lingering around as he made his way down the hall toward Darren's office. He was relieved to find the door open, and he quickly stepped inside and crossed the room to the desk that sat in front of the window. However, he was slightly frustrated that the drawer where Adam was keeping his gun was locked. Thinking quickly, the officer rummaged around in other drawers until he found a box of paper clips, bending it until it was as straight as he could get it before using the end to jiggle the lock. He was about to give up when he heard a quiet _click_, and suddenly grateful that Darren's desk had seen better days, he pulled open the drawer and quickly moved things around until he finally found his gun near the back.

Relishing the feeling of having it back in his hands, Scott quickly shut the drawer and loaded the firearm before putting it on his belt as he left the office and closed the door again behind him, making his way back down the hall to the lobby. Layla once again looked up and called after him as he crossed the room at a steady jog to the door that led down to the lower level of the station, and he once again ignored her as he descended the steps as quickly as he could. He made his way down the hall to where the holding cells were, immediately finding the occupant he wanted.

"Michael."

At the quiet sound of his name, Michael quickly looked up from where he was sitting on his makeshift bed reading a book, a knowing look crossing his face when he saw the dark-haired officer. "I should have figured it'd only be a matter of time before I saw you, Scott," he muttered, setting the old volume of Shakespeare aside.

Scott took a step closer to the bars, resting one arm on them while keeping his other hand near the gun on his belt. "You've been charged with quite a bit, though I heard that Kofi was able to negotiate the lowest sentence for those that he could," he said. "You're lucky there, Michael. But the one charge that they're _still_ trying to hit you with, you've been able to avoid. Kofi's good, but even _he _wants the person who nearly killed one of his best friends to be brought to justice. Namely you."

Michael sighed and lowered his gaze. "You think it's me too then, don't you?"

"Who else would it be, Michael?" Scott demanded angrily. "Your ass is all over this case, and you know it!"

"You wouldn't understand!" Michael pushed himself forcefully to his feet and approached the bars of his cell, pounding on them with frustration. Scott didn't flinch.

"What wouldn't I understand?" the dark-haired officer wondered instead. "You stole from both Phil and your father and split long ago! Did you not get enough money from your dad's life insurance policy when he died or something? If Phil were to die too, would you get some of that money because it'd go to his family since he's not married and doesn't have children? It would be easy considering he was a police officer, and there was a good chance he'd be killed in the line of duty. Am I getting warmer?"

"_No_!" Michael yelled in aggravation. "No, you're not! I never wanted any of my dad's life insurance money, and I certainly didn't want anything like that to happen to Phil!"

Scott's eyes narrowed almost dangerously as he leaned closer to the bars as well. "Then tell me, Michael!" he snapped. "Tell me why you did something like that to your own family!"

"I didn't want to!"

There was a long moment of silence where neither man said a word before Michael lowered his gaze and took a deep breath, and Scott nodded slightly. "So, you really were involved," he murmured, not getting an objection from the older Brooks. "You are a pathetic human being, you know that? Because of your assault on Phil, he doesn't remember anything. He barely knows who he is, much less any of us. So congratulations. You still, in essence, murdered your brother."

Scott began to turn away from the cell then, his gaze landing on Trent Barreta, the officer who was on guard duty that night, who was watching him with a startled look on his face. "Hey, man. I need you to get a written statement from Brooks about his involvement on the assault on Officer Brooks to fax to the attorney's office of Kofi Sarkodie-Mensah. I'm sure he'll love to see that in the morning."

Trent nodded as he started to approach the cell. "Sure thing," he agreed. "I'm glad he finally admitted to it."

"Me too. Thanks, man." The dark-haired officer sighed as he began to walk away so Trent could get what he needed, but he was stopped by a quiet voice from the cell.

"Scott, wait."

A long moment passed before Scott slowly turned back to Michael. "What could you _possibly_ want to say to me?" he nearly whispered. "You just told me that you almost killed my best friend. I don't want to hear another word out of your miserable mouth."

Michael slowly looked up at him. "Not even the names of the other people who were involved?" he posed.

Scott looked at the older man carefully. "You would tell me that?" he asked.

"Yes," Michael answered with a quiet sigh. "If it'll help you to catch them."

After contemplating this over for a moment, Scott nodded slightly and crossed his arms while Trent pulled out his pocket notebook and pen to write down what was said. "Start talking," he told him.

Michael sighed. "When I split from my family, as you so aptly put it, I moved out to Ohio," he explained. "I got a job at a pharmacy and worked there for a while, and I lived with my girlfriend. Long story short, we got into a heated breakup, and I moved to Rosemont. I didn't want to leave the Chicago area. While in Rosemont, I still had my pharmacy job, and I befriended one of my frequent clients who was coming in for painkillers. He helped me to get a car real cheap from a used car dealership downtown, which is the Chevy Malibu that you guys were tracking down. My ex-girlfriend took her car back, which we had both been using, so it was incredibly helpful. Since he was the one who bought it, he just used that stupid singer alias for me, and Alberto didn't care since they had been business partners for a long time when it came to the drug trafficking.

"I soon found out that he and the owner had been involved in all that shit, and I panicked. I didn't want to be involved in that. But... well, long story short, I was hooked on them for a short time. Not anymore. He would give me some of the drugs he received in the trade, and in return, I would give him some painkillers from storage at the pharmacy. This, of course, cost me my job, and I only had a limited income. I guess ever since I lost my job, he's been getting the painkillers from the hospital again, like he used to before he met me. But, I was starting to not be able to pay my rent, even though the place I was renting was cheap. My landlord had given me some leeway for a while since I was down on my luck, but he was getting pushier.

"To get some extra money, I sold my car cheaply to Stu Bennett under the condition that I could use it on occasion. But when I was still evicted from my residence, the guy who I had befriended when I had my pharmacy job allowed me to move in with him and a woman who had been a friend of his for a long time. I had actually met her a few months before at the bar she worked at in downtown Chicago and struck up a friendship with her. And that's where I still was, as well as where they still are."

"And so you used the car for the vandalism at your mother's house and school, the Starbucks and bank robbery, kidnapping an officer, almost shooting the Chief of Police, and Phil's assault?" Scott wondered.

Michael's gaze faltered. "Yes."

Scott nodded once as he glanced at Trent, who was furiously scribbling down notes in his pocket notebook. "It still doesn't explain why you did all this," he muttered.

"As I already told you, I didn't want to," Michael said. "But this guy... He had it out for Phil, though he never told me why. He'd watch the news reports and see in the papers about all the good things he was doing and stuff like that. It was crazy. And... he knew that I was his brother, so that's probably why he wanted to have me around to help. But... he told me that they needed me since I could maybe get closer to Phil than they could. I wanted nothing to do with his plan to kill him, but... but he threatened to kill me since I knew too much about what he was involved in. I... I had no choice..."

"Well, you have a choice now," Scott told him quietly. "Who are your accomplices, and where are they staying?"

Michael took a deep breath. "The woman... Her name is Eve," he replied. "Eve Torres."

Scott's eyes widened slightly. "Torres? Phil's ex-girlfriend?!" He shook his head slightly. "Why would she do this? I know she was an annoying bitch who couldn't let go, but..."

"She's been friends with this guy for a long time," Michael explained. "He wanted her to keep an eye on Phil after they broke up, and even while they were together. She's been living in the house he's staying in on... I wanna say State and Forty-Fifth..."

"State and Forty-Fifth?" Scott repeated. He knew that address. That was where the house was where Phil had lost his mentor in the hold-up gone wrong...

Michael nodded. "Yeah. No one's bought that house for a long time," he confirmed.

Scott took a deep breath as he pulled himself out of his thoughts. "And the man?" he prompted. "Who is he? Because whoever it is has your car to run around in, and he just took Phil!"

The older Brooks' gaze faltered as he lowered it. "He... he's just someone that Bennett knew well from his days on the police force..."

Not having the patience for beating around the bush, Scott angrily reached through the bars and shook him a couple times. "Damn it, Michael, who almost killed my best friend?!" he yelled, causing Trent to look at him with fear as he took a brief break from writing notes.

Michael gazed back at the enraged officer for a long moment before he took a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly. "His name is Chris," he whispered, opening them again to meet Scott's horrified gaze. "Chris Irvine."

**Author's Note**: And, that's it for this one! Well, now we know everyone involved, and the hunt begins. Thanks for reading! Your reviews are much appreciated. Thank you!


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